Wings Of The Griffin
by Apollo Wings
Summary: Rose Cousland and co. (other Origins) take on Ferelden during the Blight. AU obviously. Main focus is the Blight and Civil War not romance. Death and smut warnings. Current pairings: M!Mahariel/Zevran
1. Whelp

The only Author note of this entire story unless there's a specific thing I want to address in one.

Yes - it starts off pretty much as it is in game. But I'm a sucker for AU. This will be a multi-warden too. In fact - there'll be nine survivors of the Joining ritual in total but the whole story is based upon the POV of Rose Cousland. Just because she's my favourite one. I do love the others... just not as much.

I guess you'll just have to read my abominably long chapters and review if you want anything more from me.

Love to all reviewers, followers and favouriters in advance. I'll be gifting one-shots on anything DA Origins to reviewers that make me super smile (not just praise but proper analysis) or happen to review on big numbers (Ie - review fifty, one hundred etc). So anything on The Warden and most Hawke prompts too tbh - but I much prefer Warden related prompts.

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: T for - mild language, allusions to adult situations and that's it.

* * *

Highever was hot. It only ever got so horribly warm for a month a year, the rest of the year being subjected to the worst weather Ferelden could bestow on the Terynir, harsh bitter rain during autumn, snow as deep and solidly frozen in winter and then miserable showers that broke in the spring. Truly, only Solace was a good month in the northern Coastlands. But it meant every inhabitant was sweltering in the strange weather.

It was only the Maker's favour as to whether August and Kingsway would be the wash-out of rain and tepid heat that would wash the sticky hot away or pelting summer storms that threatened to keep all the residents of Highever battening the hatches until next Solace.

Rose brushed the sweaty tendrils of rebellious hair from her forehead and grunted when she pulled her bowstring back as far as possible before letting the arrow loose at the painted haystack target, a bubble of pride swelling in her chest when the arrow sought the bull's-eye.

"You're holding it wrong again Rosie." She shot a snide look over at her companion, Ser Roland Gilmore and a wrinkle formed in the middle of her brow. It quickly disappeared at the chiding tone of her mother sounded in her head. _Don't be so quizzical, should the wind change your face shall be stuck that way._

"You tell me how to Blighted well hold it then good _Ser_." She huffed impatiently at the ginger warrior, thrusting the yew bow out to his chest. He sighed as he took the bow from her, his gauntlet clad fingers casually brushing to her ungloved ones as he plucked the bow from her grasp almost teasingly.

"First of all milady, your stance needs to widen." He demonstrated with his feet spread as wide as his shoulders on the dry cracked mud. "Second, you hold the string with your wrist facing inwards. Maker's breath - if you ever get called to fight proper someone could easily dislocate your shoulder with a good shove."

"I have naturally good aim." She drawled. It was true; her mother had fought her tooth and nail over learning the art of weaponry until she picked up her mother's old bow and skewered the banner heraldry with an arrow - dead centre. At which point the arrow was never removed as a point that archery was coursing through her veins by leave of her former battle maiden turned noblewoman of a mother. She still clung to the bad habits of youth and self-teaching that she'd picked up in order to prove that point. So the natural aim was one of the few things she had in her benefits. "Surely if I end up in pitched battle I shall incapacitate any foe before they get close enough."

"But you have to be speedy for that. A good aim takes time." The Highever guardsman muttered. "You could always try the daggers again."

"And fall on my arse like the graceless heap of a rogue I am?" She smirked. "Really now. You'd think you enjoyed seeing me out of breath beneath you."

"Such words wouldn't do you any favours with your lady mother." He levelled, his square jaw set but a smile playing on his lips. "Arse is a very _common_ word for a lady to spout."

"I'd have thought the being beneath you would be the thing you'd most likely pick up upon." Rose winked at him.

"I prefer you on top." Roland's mouth pinched into a saucy grin as he leaned forward, brushing more of those sweaty tendrils of brown hair off her ear. "Perhaps tonight that'll be the way my dear lady will be?"

"You cad." She murmured back in false indignation, slapping her palm on his scale armour. "I much prefer being beneath you."

"I should keep that in mind." He whispered his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear.

"My Lady Cousland!" The two sprang apart at the words, their eyes traveling to the russet haired elven servant who was already wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "Your father has requested your presence in the main hall."

"Andraste's tits." Rose soundlessly mouthed. That was a close one. Roland beside her moved to be behind her and she felt him tug her strap to her quiver tighter before slinging her bow on the back.

"I told you that your quiver wasn't strapped tight enough." He mentioned formally. "I suggest you don't keep your father in waiting. He might have a decent suitor for you this time. I'll be near the armoury if you have need of me."

"I highly doubt that." She sighed; there were in truth a few suitors that were passable. But they were snobbish brats of some noble wanting higher status through marriage and saw only her title. Not in any way agreeable after more than five minutes conversation. "I'll see him at once though. Thank you for telling me Lias."

* * *

It was almost a blessing to be inside the shade of the castle compared to the heavy glare of sunlight outside. Rose stretched out her shoulder blades and looked briefly in the mirror. Oh - her mother would really have conniptions if her father was indeed introducing a suitor for the as of yet unmarried woman. Her hair had frizzed in its two looped plaits making her hair resemble frayed brown yarn on a cloth doll. And... She'd spent enough time in the sun to have her freckles come up in a vengeance over her nose. There would be applications of that horrid smelling cream to bleach them off her pale skin again.

Bollocks. She hated, truly and utterly hated being the only daughter in the Cousland line. It meant her sister-in-law and mother would conspire and use her as a living mannequin for their dresses and make-up. That was cruelty she was sure.

Hence whys she would escape as oft as possible, retreat into the woods and get her knees muddied while hunting on the estate as her father and brother would. She didn't aspire to be treated differently from any other. It was just the role that life had doled her and she supposed she was lucky n the respect that if she so desired anything it could be hers.

But it wasn't a real life. A real life meant learning how to cook and sew proper, not just embroidery stitches and tatting lace. There were worse lives she was sure, where people scrubbed together coin for the simplest of single meals that they could have a day. But there was something lacking in purpose for her as she viewed things.

Rose attempted to pat down the hair threatening to break her leather hair ties before taking a deep breath and pushing the slatted wooden door into the hall.

Why was there a fire burning in the hearth? The air was muggy with the heat of the flames and she glanced round at the shields and banners on the walls, her eyes always drawn to the arrow in the centre of the laurel pattern of her own family, drooped from its tentative placement in the mortar to stay up there only for the arrowhead catching on the thick tapestry.

"Ah! There you are Pup!" Her father greeted her warmly, his hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back. "We have a guest."

Oh? And it seems that Roland was correct. Yet another suitor. Joy. She gaze drifted to where her father was pointedly looking.

Ha! He wasn't correct. "Uncle Rendon. So nice to see you again. I do hope you are well?" She spoke politely to her father's old friend. It was only manners to call a male friend of her parents as 'Uncle'. For all her sneaking into the woods and little pushes on her fragile allowance on weapons training, she tried to be the proper daughter to a Teryn, it often made her wonder if she were adopted and not actually born into this family.

Such foolish thoughts were instantly put to rest because she shared so many features with her parents, the straight back, straight nose, stubborn pointed jawline, and green eyes of her mother... brown hair of her father before it greyed. No... She looked too much a Cousland to have been adopted. Sometimes she wished for less striking features - she was sure she wasn't attractive my any means but she was 'striking' - that much could be said. That was the horrid thing about being a female noble. Everything relied on looks and as soon as she did anything unladylike - they slammed her with an unflattering nickname. Her brother didn't have to put up with ridiculous nicknames like 'The Cousland Barbarian' he was just 'Fergus'. Although - she was easily as tall if not taller than her brother, with the wiry muscles in her shoulders brought from the archery training. Barbarian was a bit harsh though.

"I am... well." He nodded after a while, his short grey hair shaking with the slight movement. "And you my dear?"

"As is to be expected." She answered, shrugging her shoulders a little. "If I'd known it was an old friend visiting I might have taken the time to return to my room and change from these leathers." She poked at her hip and the shabby red tunic she'd thrown over her hunting leathers. She'd worn minimal underpadding due to the heat and now wished that she'd at least put on a blouse beneath so she could strip the cuirass off without exposing herself.

"You've really grown up well since we last met." Rendon Howe commented. Rose let out a very unladylike snort in response and quickly slapped a hand up onto her face. "And her manners!"

"She's much too much like her mother when she was younger." Her father rolled his eyes. "Don't tell the Teryna that though. I fear guts for garters should she know she wasn't always the polished perfection she is now."

"Did you bring me here for a reason Papa?" Rose asked cordially. She could technically at this moment be trying not to fall over while attempting to use her daggers on a dummy. It was such a shame that dummies didn't react to poisons or traps. They were her true skills, not weaponry. There would always be a tablet of weak deathroot extract for easy slipping into a drink ever since the fiasco with Vaughan Kendalls a year ago. It would put that pig of a man into a deep sleep like drunkenness while she could slip away from his groping hands. It could even put a proper bull of a man out within seconds if the book she'd learnt from was correct.

"I wanted you to meet someone." He started, turning toward the east door to the hall where a man had been watching the events in silence from the shadows. He walked up to them with a casual surety of himself, a slight swagger to his steps that could only be derived from a time living on the streets where appearance was half of your persona. A single golden hooped earring hung low in his right ear and his black hair threaded with the barest grey streaks was tied back at the nape of his neck. "This Pup is Duncan, Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens."

"I'm honoured to meet one of the legendary Blight fighters." Rose nodded at the man. "Could you tell me perhaps, whether my family will face difficulties when we march to Ostagar at behest of the King?"

Her father took in a deep shuddering breath, closing his eyes a moment. "You're not going. You shouldn't be anywhere near a battlefield if I can so help it."

"The battles fought there so far have been... successful." This Duncan tilted his head slightly. "I daresay that if the King calls enough men we shall find routing the darkspawn far easier."

"Speaking of men... my own have been delayed in this unsavoury heat." Arl Howe rubbed the back of his neck. "They will march though."

"I'm glad to hear it friend. We'll ride out come dawn's break. Just like the old days." The Teryn smiled.

"There is more grey in our hair since then and we fought Orlesians, not monsters." Howe muttered darkly, taking a deep breath of the hot air in the hall, his gaze at the assorted banners in the hall until he saw the representative shield of the Amaranthine brown bear - beside the yellow wyvern of Gwaren and the red lion of Theirin and the Cousland's own green laurel shield.

"At least the smell will be the same." Her father cracked jovially.

"You'd think the more fighters against these darkspawn will be all the better. And if the worst should happen to Fergus..." Rose mentioned again. It was stupid that her father was taking her elder brother when he had a wife and child here at home. It would be far more practical if they were to take one of the Cousland children to take the spare and not the heir.

"No. I have told you countless times. You are not coming to Ostagar." Her father snapped and the young woman flinched slightly at the tone. "Maker's breath - you aren't ready for the harsh reality of warfare."

"I would tend to agree with your daughter my Teryn." Duncan said, his gaze at the bow slung on the girl's back. "I noticed her skill in archery only as I arrived." Rose was taken aback a moment, listening to the dark-skinned man and his appraisal of her fledgling skills. "I daresay we haven't many archers in the Grey Warden ranks."

"The Grey Wardens are warriors of very high renown; I should think most would fight on the front lines no?" The Teryn responded with a click of his tongue. "I don't wish you to implant more ideas in her head about fighting. It's hard enough making her stay behind while her brother and I leave."

"I don't see why not my friend. You said only moments ago how like her mother she is, and Eleanor was in battle younger than your Rose is now." Howe answered truthfully. "I do understand your protectiveness though, my Delilah wouldn't dream of riding out to war."

Rose bit the inside of her cheek when she was going to mention that Delilah Howe was more interested in reading her dreadful romances to any useful skills she might be taught. "I am not your daughter." Rose said her voice even. "And I think it's more sensible that as the younger, unmarried and non-heir of the Couslands that I should take Fergus' place."

"Will you cease this? I have said no. You shan't be off to war and you shan't talk of it again." Her father let out a long suffering sigh. "I do wish sometimes you would be less impertinent."

"That's what makes me your daughter. I'm sure you were just as terrible if not worse that I was." Rose shrugged. "If all you wished was my presence in meeting this Grey Warden then I shall be off."

"Oh... could you inform your brother to set off early?" The Teryn rubbed a hand into his greyed beard. "I should think as the Amaranthine forces are delayed that the Highever ones should leave as soon as possible."

"Don't stretch my abilities." Rose flexed her fingers. "Gentlemen. I will bring this topic up again later. You haven't heard the last on this father."

"I almost wish I could conscript you without encountering the Teryn's wrath if you truly wish to go to the battle at Ostagar." Duncan mused aloud. "I shan't as I feel my head belongs on my shoulders." Rose smiled to herself as she left the hall. She had an ally in this Duncan. If the Grey Warden could persuade her father of her point of view in taking Fergus' place in battle it might work out nicely.

* * *

Rose was very glad to be out of the hot hall, the corridor and the stone walls so cool against her hand as she laid it on the wall. She needed to cool down a bit. It was just too hot!

"Rose!" She groaned at the voice. She was supposed to be going to see Fergus and tell him the joyous news of heading into battle with the Highever men requested. "I've just had my ear chewed off."

"Looks whole enough to me." Rose quipped, pointedly staring at Roland's ears. "In fact Rory, I think they look very un-chewed."

"That's because Nan doesn't like leaving evidence. I was only two feet away from the armoury when I got yelled at. Aegis got into the larder again and there's calamity." He rolled his eyes. "You know how it is with mabari, you either get slobbered on or your arm gets torn a hole."

"Bloody mongrel." Rose's hand slapped to her cheek. "And I bet Nan is having a hissy fit and brandishing her skillet at my poor animal?"

"Precisely. So as mistress of the terrible mutt I suggest you fetch him." He shrugged. "Before your mother hears and sends the guards in."

"Maker's breath - just what I need." Rose sighed. "Come and help me then. I hope I don't have to muzzle the stupid hound."

* * *

It was as Roland had put it, calamity. Flour was hanging finely in the hot kitchen air and Nan was indeed holding a skillet and threatening the elven servants that if 'that ruddy dog doesn't get out of the larder that I'll skin both of you'...

"I see Aegis is being a nuisance again." Rose leaned on the wooden doorjamb, casually checking her nails for dirt as if it was nothing.

"You! That's it. I'll quit if you don't get that blasted animal out of my larder. He's helping himself to the roast. I know it." Nan glared, her skillet pointed at the young noble.

"Hold your horses Nan. I'll fetch him." Rose pushed off the doorjamb and pushed open the larder door, Roland following her into the dark larder before Nan shut the door - she wasn't going to have that dog lolloping out as pleased as punch as soon as his mistress got a hold of him. She peered into the darkness until she saw the familiar fuzzy behind wriggling, the front half of the tan dog stuck into a burlap sack.

"Aegis. To heel this minute." Rose snapped at the animal and he dragged himself out the sack, a bloody carcass in his jowls. "What have you got there? If it's Nan's roast I can't defend you."

The dog whined and spat the carcass at her feet and Rose kicked it gently. "Rats. They sometimes get in through that old hatchway." Roland groaned. "But at least he wasn't at the roast."

"And more or have you dealt with the infestation?" Rose sighed at the mabari. Aegis growled at the corner and Rose looked pointedly at it. "Well finish that last one up and we'll get you out of here."

A brief squeak later and the other rat was two halves of a rat. "I swear he understands you." Roland shook his head. "Mabari are both a thick as shit and more intelligent than your average soldier at the same time."

"That's a mabari." Rose shrugged. "Now if you're quite finished boy, let's get out of this dank larder."

"I might not mention the rats." Roland suggested. "Don't want the servants skittish now do we?"

Rose shook her head and pursed her lips as she opened the larder door again, Aegis looking mildly pleased at himself by her heel - or thigh. He was a very large dog. "Look at him! I bet that roast was good wasn't it?" Nan narrowed her eyes at the animal.

"Actually-" Rose was cut off by a squeak.

"Oh mistress! There are rats in the larder! Big ones!" The female elf breathed. "That dog must have got them."

"As I was about to say. There were a few rats. Aegis dealt with them." She rolled her eyes. Aegis didn't go into the larder to nick food; he got enough scraps from beneath the table at dinner times and his own food that he had no want of it.

"Fine." Nan grumbled. "Just don't let him in here again."

"I'll keep him with me at all times; loving him unconditionally and making sure he doesn't sneak food again." Rose grinned, knowing just how Nan would chide her for the remark. She got her second long suffering sigh directed at her for the day and bounced out of the kitchens, back into the relatively cooler hallway.

"I should really get this dent out of my armour now." Roland mentioned as he headed off to the armoury again. "You know where I'll be."

"You're leaving again?" Rose moaned. "I swear if I have to tell Fergus he gets to be the one off to battle while I sit here and make-pretend Teryna I'll take a dagger to these stupid plaits and get my face tattooed - mark my words. I'd rather deal with mother screaming how I'll never get a husband than an hour of vassals grovelling."

"Are you sure you're a noble Rosie?" Roland chuckled. "You're more of a Cousland Bar-"

"Cousland Barbarian. Maker's breath - I know!" She sighed, a hand on her sweaty temple. "Go on - he'll most probably take you too and I'll get left on my own to suffer."

"Have no fear; I'm not in the first half of the Highever troops." Roland quipped. "Second lot. I ride with your father."

"Joy." Rose ground out. "Oh... by the way - did you know there's a Grey Warden in the castle?"

"I had heard. I hope he's recruiting. It would be a shame if it was a passing visit." Roland stared wistfully at the floor. "Ever since I was a boy growing up in Hunters Fell I wanted to be a Grey Warden."

"It would be a waste of his time if not a recruitment visit. I'd recruit you." She shrugged. "Especially with the darkspawn amassing at Ostagar. I'm surprised we get to see a Grey Warden this far north."

"Stranger things have happened." Roland shrugged.

* * *

"Oh and this is a tapestry that Bryce brought back from Orlais two years ago. The Marquis was so drunk he mistook him for the King!" The Teryna smiled at her guests. "He insisted that Bryce take it as a point that Orlesians are repentant for their crimes those thirty years ago."

"I should hope so." Rose butted in, her voice low. "Not that a tapestry covers up the bloody stain on Ferelden soil."

"You sound just like Teryn Loghain when you say that. You'll end up with his wrinkles too if you don't stop snarling." Rose's mother shook her head. "Lady Landra - you remember my daughter?"

"Indeed. And my! Hasn't she blossomed into quite the pretty lady?" Landra smiled wryly, the comment on Orlesians forgotten.

"I do wish I had more worth than my appearance." Rose sniffed in mock disapproval. "Then again I'd hardly be worth more than my status in the market of marriage then would I mother?"

The Teryna stared for a few moments at her youngest child. "I suppose not." She muttered. "Having fine features always helped or so I was told."

"I would have thought owning a brain would increase the chances of finding a suitable mate." Rose countered. "Would you know by the way mother, just where Fergus is? I have the joy of telling him that he's off early with his half of the troops."

"Still on about being left behind my girl?" The Teryna quirked an eyebrow.

"I'd like to think the learning I took on strategy and other parts of warfare wouldn't go to waste. And that of course that my brother were safe in the castle with his wife and child." She shrugged. "Then again - I'm only a stubborn little whelp that doesn't understand these things."

"You're not destined for war." Her mother answered. "Oh - and Lady Landra brought her son Darrien with her. You remember him as well?"

Of course she did, he kept his nose firmly pressed into books, writing and reading as if it would go out of fashion. A reversal of her own life it seemed, Bann Loren wanted him to be a knightly son and her parents wished she were more a stay at home noblewoman. "I didn't see you there." Rose greeted the man-child. "How was your latest anthology of poetry coming along?"

"You remembered?" He smiled. "I finished the epic on the Highever Sparrow if you want to read it."

"I'll decline for the moment." Rose smiled back. They had a few things in common, not their desires and dreams in life - but of course their hope for something different was there and that made them staunch allies when their mothers attempted to 'make business deals' as they had often referred to the way marriage seemed to be brokered in noble society. It was only at Landra Loren's latest salon that they'd made an attempt at putting the two young people together. "But it sounds like you spent some time on it. An epic."

"Much too much time." Landra commented. "I think it might be time for me to retire for the afternoon before tonight's goodbye feast. Darrien - if you could take me to my room?"

"Of course mother." He respectfully bowed to the two nobles there that were higher rank than he. "If you want to read 'The Flight of the Sparrow' I'll be in the library most of the afternoon." As if she couldn't have guessed where he'd while his time away.

"Now that I have your undivided attention mother." Rose spoke as the two guests disappeared round the corner to bedroom wing of the castle. "Would you know where Fergus is?"

"He was last with Oriana and Oren I knew of. In his room." The Teryna sniffed, her daughter went to leave when she spoke again. "I have a horrible feeling about all of this."

"The war? I do too - hence why I should be the one off and not my elder brother." Rose shrugged - her back still facing her mother and she went to move again toward the bedroom wing.

"No more of that nonsense, you're hardly worth losing to the darkspawn either." Eleanor closed her eyes a moment. "For all the hellion you are - I love you. I don't want to see you hurt."

Rose stopped in her tracks. "I love you too Mama. But I couldn't stand it if my nephew ended up fatherless because I was over-protected." And with that comment, Rose left her mother still staring at the Orlesian tapestry hung in the receiving atrium for guests. She didn't like it as much as she thought she did previously. There was indeed a horrible red thread in it that looked so much like blood.

* * *

Eleanor walked with purpose to the main hall; she knew her husband would still be talking to Rendon and the Grey Warden. She pushed into the room, her skirts twirling with the brisk pace in the overly-hot room. Bryce liked the heat - said it reminded him of the trip they'd made to Antiva to visit Oriana's family before their eldest got married. "Bryce... Rose just left for Fergus' room... and I think we're making a mistake."

"And good day to you too Eleanor. How radiant you look today." Rendon rolled his eyes. "Quite honestly I thought you'd not seen me."

"Sorry Rendon. This old head feels screwed on backwards most days." Eleanor muttered. "We shouldn't have Fergus head out... it's... I can't shake this horrible premonition."

"Calm down love." Bryce approached her, rubbing his hands up and down her shoulders. "Now what is this about?"

"Rose and Fergus... I can't help but feel they're both in so much danger. All of us. Maker's breath it makes my head hurt to think of our children in danger let alone us too." She rubbed a sore point on her temple and closed her eyes, just concentrating on the soothing rub of her husband's hands up and down her velveteen clad shoulders.

"If I may... you believe that there is danger? Why?" Duncan mused aloud. "I should have thought with that sharp tongue your daughter has she'd talk her way out."

"She'll talk herself into danger one day." Eleanor sighed. "You're the Grey Warden aren't you?"

"Indeed milady." Duncan intoned. "So this premonition of yours?"

"It's most probably just the thought of war. But I can't shake it. Perhaps Rose has been right - that we should send her instead of Fergus?" Eleanor bit her lip before stopping herself. She'd smear her lip cream over her teeth.

"Balderdash." Bryce shook his head. "Fergus was trained as a warrior. Rose... picks up books and devours the strategies and weaponry."

"I would say she's learnt remarkably well then." Duncan shrugged. "As I mentioned previously, she is much better than a lot of archers I have seen even in the Grey Wardens."

"And as I mentioned, if you place such foolish notions of joining the Wardens in her head I'll never hear the end of it." Bryce set his jaw. "Come love, let's bid Fergus goodbye while our children are in the same room. It hardly feels like we have enough time anymore."

* * *

Rose leaned on her brother's open door, just watching how sickeningly sweet his banter with his wife was... how he ruffled Oren's hair. Argh. The way children and marriage had made him... loving... was weird. She missed having her brother pull on her plaits and nicking her quiver of arrows. Not this odd man. "If you've quite finished I could stand to open my eyes again and not wish to vomit." She announced her arrival.

"Auntie Rose!" Oren ran into her, his nose bumping straight into her ribcage. The boy was getting taller. Soon enough she'd have to be careful of smothering the beansprout child if he continued to grow and hug her in such a fashion. "They're being icky again."

"Do I have to sort you two out again?" Rose put her hands on her hips playfully, shook her head and tapped her foot. "What did mother say when we both were old enough to be looking for partners? An arm's reach apart while in company."

"Oh hello. So nice of you to drop by." Fergus quipped. "And Oren - it's not being icky."

"It is icky. Kissing girls- yuck. Disgusting." He made a very - cute - retching noise. "I'll never kiss a girl. They're boring."

"Does that mean... the pumpkin faerie can't come and get you?" Rose growled low for the last bit and Oren broke into a run as Rose chased the boy in circles around his parents. "I'm gonna get ya! I'm gonna get ya! The Pumpkin Faerie never loses!"

Eventually Rose grabbed hold of Oren and kissed him on the cheek while he squirmed in her grasp. He turned a pink and looked at his aunt. "You have a pumpkin growing on your cheek too." Then he pushed her over and pinched her cheek. "Got it!"

"Pumpkins get kissed off!" Rose rubbed her cheek and behind simultaneously. "Maker's breath - what do you feed him? He knocked me clean off my feet!"

"I'm going to be a great big warrior! I'm going to kill the dire bunny with my sward of truthiness!" Oren announced to the room, thrusting his right hand out as if he were fighting a gigantic monster. "Take that! And that!"

"Truthiness?" Rose laughed.

"We were teaching him about honesty." Oriana sighed - in always amazed Rose how much her sister-in-law had taught her Antivan accent out of her speech. "Oren, calm down."

"Yes Mama." Oren deflated. "It's the Pumpkin Faerie's fault!"

"Oh no... You're not sticking the sward of truthiness fight on me!" Rose smirked.

"Yes Oren - the word is _sword_." Fergus laughed.

"The word is _truthfulness_." Oriana added. "One of these days I shall find out that my dear sister-in-law has found a man, married him and decided just how much she wants children. Then she'll learn how much the Pumpkin Faerie is the bane of my existence."

"One of these days I might go stark raving loony too." Rose shrugged. "It could happen."

"You're already there sister." Fergus chuckled. "So what brings you here? I'm sure the Pumpkins didn't."

"The Amaranthine forces have been delayed. Father wants you to head out earlier with your half of ours before he and Uncle Rendon head out with his half and the Amaranthine ones." Rose sighed. "I don't get how you go off to war and I end up having to sit here and play Teryna."

"Just imagine me on horseback, tired from sleet and rain come Harvestmere, exhausted from battle, a cold bedroll and burnt offerings for dinner. I'm sure you'll feel much happier about being left behind then." Fergus smiled, moving to his sister to give her a warm hug.

"Then you promise to come back, tell me the exact number of darkspawn you slay and I'll tell you how many times I've lost my temper with one of Father's vassals. I swear Harper's Ford are already petitioning for another repair on the bridge. At this rate they'll have the entire bridge remade five times over this year alone." Rose murmured into his shoulder. "Since when did you get so short by the way?"

"You must have gotten even taller." He quipped. "Those vegetables will be the death of your britches, they'll cling to your knees and you'll end up with muddy scabs if you keep going out at night to hunt."

Rose stayed stock still a moment in the embrace. "How do you know about that?"

"You leave your window wide open. The wind comes straight through to here." He answered. "But your secret is safe with me."

"It had better be." She grumbled.

"Ah! Mother! Father! Come to see me off too?" Fergus broke the hug and went to his parents.

"You could have delivered your own message Papa. Instead of making me do it." Rose drawled, her lips pulled into a tight pinch.

"We were just coming to deliver a different message." The Teryna sighed. "You're to be going to Ostagar Rose."

"What!" Her shoulders slumped down. "Really? But... aren't father and Fergus? Someone has to stay behind and you're going to Bann Loren's..."

"Duncan... made a persuasive argument." The Teryn sighed. "Especially after my mouth ran away with me about the military reading you do. He conscripted you in the end. You're going to be a Grey Warden."

"Thank you!" Rose rushed to her father and hugged him tight. "I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier! I was... I just wanted..."

"You wanted us to see that you're our daughter - a stubborn whelp that tries to get her way constantly." The Teryn hugged back to his daughter, relishing the contact as if it could be his last with her. "But now I expect something in return. You and Fergus will be leaving after dinner. I expect full dress because of our guests - that means make-up."

"Argh. You're worse than those two." Rose waved her hand in the general directions of her sister-in-law and mother. "But I don't care! A Grey Warden! I can finally show people those poisons I've been working on!"

* * *

As much as Rose had pretty much said she didn't care about the make-up and dress... she cared now. Her corset had been pulled so tight she thought her ribs might break and her breasts might spill out into the soft gown. She saw the comfort in that fact that as a Grey Warden she'd be free of these ridiculous clothes and able to run around in her leathers, tunic and britches as an everyday thing and not just for her archery practice. That - she couldn't wait for.

"So Duncan." Rose started as she put her soup spoon down in the empty bowl. "Life as a Grey Warden. What am I to expect?" The Teryn glanced over at the Commanding Grey Warden and his daughter, hoping that the stories of brutal warfare wouldn't be as true as he knew they were. His daughter... the man had conscripted her.

"I will not lie. It isn't for everyone and it'll never be easy. But the Grey Wardens hold no regard to race, class or pasts. Criminals and royalty stand side by side to fight the darkspawn threat." He answered slowly, watching as Rose's face lit up. "There is also no allegiance held to particular countries or station. The Grey Wardens - as I'm sure you're aware now. Can conscript anyone. I have both yourself and Ser Gilmore joining our ranks with me in Ostagar, with the Blight coming I've had to send most of my men out to recruit."

"That's interesting." Rose stared pointedly at the empty bowl that had held watercress soup minutes ago. "I suppose that means this isn't just a big darkspawn raid then. That if my history is correct - and if it's not Aldous might throttle me - that we're due a few decades at least of a threat to Ferelden?"

"As history has pointed out to us. Dumat took one hundred and ninety-two years to slay. Zazikel a further ninety, Toth only fifteen and Andoral twelve. We can only hope for such a short Blight." Duncan sighed. "I trust you understand what the difference between a Blight and a 'large darkspawn raid' is?"

"Of course." Rose grinned. Finally! Someone wanted her to use her brain and with the knowledge she'd filled it with! The Grey Wardens were some of the greatest heroes Thedas had to offer. Garahel had ended the Forth Blight in... 5:24 Exalted? "The Old Tevinter Gods rise from a deep slumber as tainted dragons. They lead the darkspawn in a way that means they're more organised. Which of the three Gods left has risen this time? Razikale, Urthemiel or Lusacan?"

Duncan stared a moment at the girl. That was more than the average person knew of darkspawn. Her father had said that she read between the lines in books and he wondered just how much she'd figured out already. "It is Urthemiel." He said slowly. "Tell me, how do you know of... the Tevinter gods?"

"Oh that's simple." Rose smiled. "I read. I could read anything given to me since I was three years old. At first, it was stories, then I went onto political things, religion, trap-making, poisons and then warfare and weaponry. I was... intrigued by it all."

Duncan considered this. "A curious mind discovers much." He finally spoke. "It shall be interesting what sort of role you come to be in the Grey Wardens, I should hate to squander your abilities."

"I should hope not." The Teryn muttered. "I'm trusting you Warden to look after her." The two rogues glanced up, both had become so absorbed into the conversation that they'd forgotten the people in the room.

"And as an archer Papa, I'm sure to be in the back lines somewhere when in battle. What I'm sure the Commander meant was what sort of role I'd play in troop distribution and other useful things." Rose winked as subtly as possible so her father wouldn't see but that Duncan would. "Did you know there are seventeen different ways deathroot can be administered that aren't fatal?"

"I only knew of sixteen." Duncan nodded. "But I'm sure you'll tell me the other."

"Intravenously. You can use special hollowed out needles to inject it direct to the bloodstream rather than coating a blade in it - you get optimum poison in while losing less blood. The physician who strapped my leg when I broke it falling from a tree used it to numb my entire lower half as he manipulated the bones back into place." She sighed. "No lasting effects but I was pretty much paralysed from the waist down for near on half a day."

"You sound wistful of that half a day." Duncan reached for his wine glass and swirled the red vintage appreciatively before swallowing a good mouthful. Rose took in as deep a breath as could be managed in her corset.

"Truth be told, it's then that I figured out how much I wanted to know about poisons. I tinkered for hours on end with different varieties, winter deathroot, summer deathroot, arid deathroot. It really is a hardy plant, grows in all climates and soil." She put a hand to her forehead. "But I'm sure as a rogue you understand all about it."

"And how did you know I was a rogue?" Duncan furrowed his brow. He couldn't figure out how this girl had come to achieve this almost innate way of reading people and understanding things. Especially with the adversion he'd seen her parents take on her military styled training.

"You have calloused hands from extended pommel gripping and there's a scar on both your thumbs that most novices get when younger if they don't hold their daggers right." She smirked. "I should know." She put both her thumbs up at him, and he nodded at seeing the two thin whiter lines on her skin.

He'd figured it out. It was all logic. She saw things and they made connections in her brain.

* * *

Rose... was happy. She hadn't been this happy for a long time. Not truly. She'd felt a bit of pride in her archery and the short bursts of happiness in playing with her nephew. But not this glow she felt about getting to use her brain.

For so long all she'd been told and all she could see in her future was eventually getting married to some idiotic man who would treat her like an object and stop all her training so she would birth him a family. It would all be his too. None would be of any merit to herself.

But that was all different now! Now she was going to be a Grey Warden! She was going to cast away the shackles of being born as she was and start being herself! It would be... good. She wasn't assuming fun, because war couldn't sound fun when death could be around the corner. But a life free from having to show one face to person A and another to person B? Oh... she would enjoy being herself.

She hurried out of the dress and corset, slipping her loose blouse on before tucking it into her hose. Next where the leather leggings, thin chain gambeson, strap on the leather cuirass, slip the leather skirts on to proper protect her hips. Put the sturdy red tunic on over that... Maker's breath this was a warm thing - putting all this armour on!

Slip the shoulder guard onto her... shoulder obviously. Tie the two crossing leather straps over her chest that held her large quiver and satchel. Put her boots on and tie the lambswool and oilskin sheeting on the outsides - because Ferelden is muddy and trenched foot was something nobody wanted. Her bow slung over the quiver...

That was it right? Satchel packed with a good sturdy leather journal, inks and quills, essential soaps and washing oils, tent with slotted poles that collapsed down and reinforced thin canvas that folded... a small pouch with money in it for personal use. Who knows if Grey Wardens get paid and it wasn't as if she'd live on the charity and goodwill of others. Her vials of liquid poisons, tablet poisons, powder poisons and poisons that if you ignited burned into a gassy poison. That was difficult to make. Oh... matches! She stuffed them into the over-flowing satchel next to the soaps.

So now it was goodbye? She'd already said as much after dinner when she was told to get ready for the start of the week long journey to Ostagar. Duncan would be waiting in the stables for her.

* * *

Rose hefted her satchel into the pannier on the horse, making sure her rolled bedroll in the other pannier wouldn't slip up with the weight distributed to the left side by tightening the straps holding the saddle and panniers tighter onto the bay colt. Derek was a fairly good horse by most standards. He wasn't overly fond of rain but most people didn't like rain themselves. It was - understandable.

"Are you ready yet?" Fergus lead his chestnut colt out of the stable and into the still warm sunshine this late of an evening. Summer was an awful time of year, evening wasn't dark and mornings started earlier. He saw Rose slip a carrot chunk to Derek and he shook his head. "Stop spoiling the horse and move your arse!"

"Mother wouldn't appreciate such crass language." Rose stuck her tongue out at him.

"Yes - I'm sure she wouldn't." He sighed. "I'll have to remember that for when I get back. Oren picked up what a wench is after you went skittish to get the dinner over with quicker."

"It's a tool used for taking water from a well right Ferg?" Rose smiled knowingly. "I do listen sometimes. I might seem to be in my own world, but I do listen."

"I thought it was a woman who serves ales?" Fergus retorted.

"Or who drinks a lot of ales!" Rose finished as she mounted the horse.

"You two will never grow up." The two siblings looked over to see their mother in the entrance of the stables, looking very out of place in her dress amongst the straw and horse shit. "I have... supplies. For my hungry little soldiers." She pulled her hands from behind her back and walked slowly as to not startle the horses with the rustle of her skirts and popped the cheese and pickle sandwiches in empty pouches on each horse. "Now good luck. Maker guide you both."

"And you mother." Fergus smiled. "We'll be sure to bring you next time. You can scold the darkspawn into the deep roads right?"

"Off with you - I shan't miss you until you leave!" The Teryna smiled back to her son. "Keep each other out of trouble. I know how difficult that is but you'll have to manage."

"Shall do." Fergus groaned. "A big brother I'll make sure nothing befalls my baby sister other than a good punch on the arm if she doesn't help dig the latrines."

"Not even that young man. You're not too big that I can't give you a good wallop." She ground out sternly. "And bring back as many men as possible. I'm relying on you all to keep our men safe so they come back to their families."

And with assurances and more goodbyes; Rose and Fergus Cousland, Roland Gilmore, the Commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens and fifty Highever men rode and marched out of the castle grounds to head to Ostagar. As they left Rose fished her locket out from under her layers of armour and blinked at the miniature portraits within of her family together. She wondered if saying goodbye would always be this difficult.

Perhaps she'd come back one day and sit down with Oren and show him any new scars she got, laugh about them and get him to draw inky lines to join them up. The scar on her knee where she'd scraped it just that bit too much always looked like a conker shell from the inside to her. Almost milky white on the middle of it with little thin straight 'spikes' coming off that circle. She gazed at the heraldry of a griffin on Duncan's travelling jacket he'd slung over his armour and she wondered just how much of her life she was leaving behind here.

This was what she wanted... to take Fergus' place. He was still going.

Then it struck her. She wanted to go, and she wanted to stay. But she'd been conscripted and the choice disappeared. She didn't need to worry over all the little bits of training and politicking she'd picked up over the years any more. She was still clinging to it all. She had to let it remain here.

She'd come back eventually. Someone had to make sure Oren got visited by the Pumpkin Faerie and if it meant she had to chase down the boy then so be it. That would be what she'd come back for. Pumpkins.

What an odd thing to think. "I need a drink. I just thought about Pumpkin Faeries." Rose muttered and she tugged Derek's reins a little to steer him around a bit of loosely compacted ground, rocking her hips as he trotted to keep her balance.

"Oren is going to miss you more than me." Fergus shook his head. "And Mother will lament for so long on how she'll only have me left that I'll feel hard done by."

"Oh shush you." Rose rolled her eyes. "And I'll miss those bloody sermons with Mallol too."

"You're making me tear up thinking about them." Fergus chuckled.

"Tears of boredom brother?" Rose cracked back. "When we return she'll have put it all down in a book for us to read."

"They called that The Chant of Light sister." Fergus sighed. "You know what I'll miss? A sward of truthiness. I promised Oren I'd teach him how to wield a sword proper but he's interested in the thunking great ones. I'll end up falling over it."

"Well don't look at me! I'm an archer! I have no place among blades." She shrugged. "Do you know anyone Duncan who wields a greatsword?"

"I do, but I doubt they'll have the time to teach a boy." Duncan pursed his lips. "It's been a long day - perhaps some silence would be needful."

And they all agreed. Again Rose was drawn to the griffin heraldry. She liked the wings. They seemed like a symbol of freedom. And Maker did she feel free.


	2. Stubborn

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: M for - scenes of an angsty nature and death and assumed necrophilia (only brief mentions - it's not explicit). Can't have Cousland stories without an M rating. Rating just goes up - it was planned this way anyway.

* * *

They were setting up camp when the horse thundered into the assorted tents. Rose looked up from her digging of the latrines. Fergus wasn't lying when he said it was a grunt job and she'd get a bruised arm for not doing it. Bastard brother. Was that Lias?

"Where are the Couslands?" The elf shouted into camp, yanking the reins of the roan stallion to halt him. He'd never ridden before and he'd had to learn quick how not to fall off a frightened horse.

"I'm here!" Rose waved to the servant. "Don't tell me they've decided I should stay now." Because that would be ridiculous, getting her hopes up like that. She staked the shovel in the mud and put her hands up to calm the horse. "Steady now Thunder."

"The castle..." Lias shivered. That night had fallen meant the residual heat of the day was gone and he'd wished for enough time to grab a jacket or cloak of some sort. Now wasn't the time for such errant thoughts though. "The castle is under attack."

"What!" Fergus almost ran up the the horsed elf. "How? Who?"

"I don't know Ser!" The elf squeaked. "Nan told me to get down the escape hatch in the larder while she evacuated everyone! I grabbed the horse and made for the direction you'd be travelling in!"

"We need to go back." Rose was grabbing her bow from inside her bedroll, she hadn't put her tent out yet and she called for someone to saddle Derek up so she could make haste to Castle Cousland. "Our family is there."

"The Teryn... he was running to the armoury last I saw with the Teryna." Lias hung his head. "I know nothing of the Lady Oriana or her son though."

"What happened?" Duncan came out of his tent with a mug of hot ambrosia tea in his hands, warming the digits through the contact.

"Castle Cousland is under attack." Rose ground out. How had the man not heard? "And I'm going back. I'm saving my family."

"I'm coming too." Roland was by her side, his horse still saddled from before and mounting it with practised ease. "Those men - I should have been there with them."

"Is anyone else with me?" Rose shouted at the men. "The Castle has been attacked and we must go back!"

"These men are to go to Ostagar." Duncan intoned. "As much as this is important - if the darkspawn are not routed then I fear it will be for naught that we do anything."

"Do anything!" Rose near screamed, causing both Thunder and Roland's horse 'Pale' to startle before their respective riders calmed them. "If Highever is taken by this attack there will be civil war in the north, just as dangerous I should think! You slay the darkspawn and we'll still be left with war!"

Duncan paused a moment. She just logic'd him. "Fergus, as personal as this is for you I ask you keep the men on to Ostagar - pack the camp and go. If this attack continues we do not want to have the men in it. Rose, myself and Roland will return and try to quell the attack."

"Three of us!" Rose's eyes widened. She was fuming. "An attack on a castle takes more than three to quell!"

"It is a reconnaissance mission." Duncan put it firmly. "We rescue the Teryn and Teryna as well as Lord Fergus' family and remove ourselves from the situation. Civil war might still happen but when the darkspawn have been dealt with the proper rulers will be placed back in power." He tried to reason with the noble girl and she nodded sternly after taking in a deep breath.

"Then let's move. We bring Derek, Thunder and Pale." Rose gave the orders again for Derek to be saddled. "We'll also retrieve Aegis from the Castle."

"Rosie." Fergus called to her after she was finished with orders. She turn to her brother and clasped him tight through their armour. "Be safe... save them."

"I will." Rose said firmly, her conviction slamming out in her tone. "For now, see that these men get to Ostagar. If we send our family north to Ostwick or even Antiva then we'll... Maker's breath. I should have been there. I'd be doing something now."

"Just go. Maker watch over you sister." Fergus broke the embrace as Derek was brought up to his sister.

"It isn't the Maker at work here brother. This is a snake." And with that - Duncan on Thunder, Rose on Derek and Roland on Pale, the three of them left the camp and made as fast as possible back to the castle.

Rose was killing herself slowly, thinking about how she should have been at the castle and not travelling to Ostagar. If anyone had harmed a hair on her families heads she'd decorate the walls with their carcasses.

* * *

A quietly as possible the Grey Warden and his two recruits rode up alongside the castle, keeping in the shadows and to the walls as screams and burning sounded within. Rose gripped tighter to the horse, until they got to the windows in the bedroom wing. "I'll pick the lock on the latch and tie a rope for you both to come up." She whispered to the men, cautiously bringing Derek up under her window.

She carefully stood atop the horse and grabbed the handholds she'd carved into the stonework long ago, scaling the wall with the ease of a lot of climbing. She pulled the hairpin out of her left plait and it fell down her back. She shoved it roughly into the lock and then grabbed the second from her right plait, adjusting herself so she was kneeling tentatively on the window ledge. "Careful." Roland whispered. Rose didn't dare look down and tell him she was being careful.

She fumbled a moment with the tumblers on the lock until a satisfying click sounded and she let out the breath she'd bee holding. She pushed the window open inwards and fell onto her bed. The room was empty but for Aegis barking at the door. "Shh boy. It's me." She snapped quietly at the animal and he stopped a moment. She hotfooted over to her wardrobe and pulled out a thick rope she kept hidden in there for her nightly escapes.

Rose secured the rope to her bed post and threw the end out the window. She heard a huffing and puffing as Roland scaled up first in his scale armour followed by her pack of poisons being lifted from Duncan to Roland and then herself as she re-secured her plaits with the hairpins. She took the poisons gratefully and counted out how many tablets, vials and matches she had in the pouch before strapping it to her waist.

Duncan came in next through the window and jumped through, landing with a soft thud on the carpeted floor. "So we run in, any resistance we try to knock the bastards out with these." Rose waved the poisons that became gasses in the air. "Rescue my parents, Oriana, Oren and it might be an idea to rescue Uncle Rendon and the Lorens."

"Agreed." Duncan nodded. "We should ready ourselves." He pulled his daggers from his shoulder sheaths and Roland removed his sword from hip scabbard and his shield was held on his arm. Rose unhooked her bow and grabbed an arrow. "On three."

Rose opened her bedroom door after the count and Aegis pounded out. The four were met by the sight of two men coming from Fergus' room, one of the lacing up his britches and both covered in blood. Rose did not hesitate as she pulled her bowstring back and hit the arrow into the soft hollow of the throat of the man not lacing his britches.

The one with his britches still undone was taken down by Aegis and the mabari attacked viciously, tearing flesh off the man's face and neck. The mabari could smell the scent of death in the air and it charged in the animal's veins to kill those that caused it.

The man with the arrow in his throat gurgled before slumping dead to the floor and Rose calmly went and retrieved it while his comrade was mauled to death. It was the first time she'd taken the life of another human and she felt no remorse. These bastards were here to attack her family. She rolled the man over when she noticed his shield on his back and staggered back.

That was... the brown bear of Amaranthine. She'd killed one of Uncle Rendon's men. What where they doing here? Surely wasn't the one behind this attack? "Are you alright?" Roland glanced at her.

"Fine." She ground out. "Just... shocked."

"That room is open. There may be more men inside." Duncan pointed at Fergus' door and Rose swallowed the lump in her throat. This wasn't the time to be thinking on who was attacking. It was time to save people.

There was the sound of another door unlocking before the ground spun around, weapons poised to see if it was friend or foe. "Mama!" Rose rushed over to see her mother in leathers, her bow up and mirroring her daughter, two daggers at her hips. "Thank the Maker you're alive!"

"Rose? What are you doing here? I was just retriving the health poultices I stored in my room when..." She looked over at the two men dead on the floor. The one with the puncture wound on his neck... "That's Kevin! One of Rendon's men! The men all had their heraldry scrubbed off and helmets on when your father and I got to the armoury."

"So... he really is attacking us." Rose took in a deep breath. "Get out the window in my room. There are horses below."

"I'll not leave you while my home is under attack." Eleanor Cousland straightened out her back. "The Grey Warden is with you too? And Ser Gilmore?"

"Yes milady." Roland nodded his head. "But it would be better for you to leave. We're rescuing survivors. We'll explain later."

"Go mother. We'll be there shortly." Rose urged her mother into her room and saw her to safety down the rope while Duncan and Roland kept a lookout for more attackers. Thankfully no more appeared in those two minutes.

"Your father was going to get the family shield last I knew." The Teryna whispered and handed a key to her daughter. "If he hasn't made it at least make sure Howe doesn't get his slimy hands on it."

Rose nodded and pocketed the key, walking back to the two helping her save her family she nodded at them to continue. "Milady... Oriana and Oren." Roland started, his face twisted into a frown.

"No... Fergus!" Rose dropped to her knees. "They can't be." She shuffled on her knees and then picked herself up and ran to the room where she collapsed again.

She had hoped... she really had hoped but her heart had dropped as soon as she'd seen the two men coming out of their room. Oriana was as naked as the day she was born, cuts decorating her flesh and bruises even with how pale she was and when Rose checked she was so cold. She couldn't have saved her sister-in-law if she'd even been here when Lias rode up to them. Those bastards had raped her while dead.

Then her eyes were drawn to the bed. Oren... he'd been tied up like some sort of animal, his face turned toward the scene where his mother had been raped. She shuffled over to him and went to feel how cold he was... if that assumption was correct and her fingers touched into hot blood in the deep gash that nearly beheaded the child.

"Maker's breath those monsters!" She sobbed, her forehead hitting the blood-soaked bed. "I should have been here. I should have protected you." She gazed at his little face a wiped back some of his brown curls. If not for the horrid gash and binding you'd almost think he were asleep. "I'm so sorry Oren."

"Rose! There's more!" She heard the clang of metal on metal and sprang up to her feet, her hands mechanically reaching for bow and arrows. She half ran out the room and let the arrow fly, hitting the man Roland was battling in the eye.

Duncan slipped into the range of the greatsword wielder he was pitted against and slipped his right-hand daagger up into his armpit, changing the angle and pushing the dagger down into his lungs before yanking it out with a twist. An arrow zoomed past his nose and he saw the rogue that had stuck to the shadows go down with a gurgle as the arrow embedded in his throat.

Roland swung the edge of his shield into the face of his attacker and when he stumbled he thrust his sword quickly into his chest, the end bursting out the other side with a spray of blood.

Fighting over Aegis plodded to his mistress who was wiping tears off her face and retrieving arrows. He whined at her and she looked down at him before absent-mindedly stroking his ears. His mistress wasn't happy. He wasn't happy. He brushed into her thigh with his bloody muzzle and she glared at him.

His mistress was hurt. She didn't want comforting now but she needed it. But he'd be a good dog. He'd wait until she let him curl up with her.

"The next rooms are the Loren's... the guest suites." Rose took a deep breath. "They're defenceless too. I know Darrien was trained a little in the sword but these bastards are without mercy."

"Then we shall move on." Duncan said firmly. There was no place in battle for emotion. You had to deal with them later when your life wasn't on the line. When you were safe. He stepped over the cooling corpses in pursuit of his recruit and she opened the door of the guest room before she choked on her breath. He peered in and another bloody scene met his eyes.

It wasn't as cruel as the scene in Lord Fergus' room. But... Maker preserve him the young Darrien had been skewered to the bed and his mother Landra was a crumpled heap on the floor, her blood seeping into the carpets. Rose pushed past him and emptied her stomach violently and loudly. He moved to her and rubbed up and down her back.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault." She whispered in a rasp when she stopped. "If I'd not been so adamant in leaving for Ostagar I could have protected them all."

"None of us saw this happening." Roland soothed and Rose lifted from her hunch and went to slap him.

Roland grabbed her hand mid-swing. "I could have done something!" She screeched.

"You couldn't!" He roared back. "Now quit this for the moment. You can mourn when we aren't in danger. We have to find your father!"

She recoiled at his harsh words but nodded, her gaze hardening. "You're right. Onwards." She whispered to herself. "Forever onwards while I breathe."

* * *

The signs of destruction and death continued all the way to the main hall, tapestries ripped, heraldry scrubbed from shields. They met resistance and got small cuts but Duncan was affirmed in his belief that he'd conscripted the right people with how well they worked together in battle.

Rose reached down to her thigh. Fucking rogue had tried to hamstring her. He'd received a good kick in the groin before she got her boot knife and stuck it deep in his throat. The deaths of these men didn't bother her any more. She'd seen the utter Void they'd made of her home, the wanton hate in the way her family and guests in her home had been slaughtered in.

"Hold the doors men! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!" Roland shouted at the six strong left in the hall. They were the last of the fifty that were waiting to go to Ostagar come morning. If he'd not been recruited he could have numbered in the dead.

"Mallol. The chapel." Rose ground out as she applied the creamy red health poultice to the cut through her leather leggings and hose. Feelig the pain abate was good but she'd scar. "It's right next to the armoury and where father was headed."

"Then we check there too." Duncan agreed with the short statement. The four strong (including Aegis) hurried through the south west exit of the hall and shut it firmly behind them. They didn't need the six soldiers holding the main doors only to be ambushed from the side.

* * *

The chapel was a mess of papers and more blood. Mother Mallol was dead with a broken bottle that had once held the sacramental wine in her hand, a soldier bearing the Amaranthine bear gutted next to her with glass in his face. Rose left the chapel. There was nothing they could do now.

It was the armoury next. If her father wasn't there from all likelihood, he'd been murdered too. She fumbled with the key in the door before rushing in. Her father was in his old armour from the Rebellion, a dagger stuck in his right side and on the floor. The Highever shield he'd wielded at the time abandoned on the carpet next to him.

"Rose! What are you doing here?" He let go of the sword in his hand when he realized the people entering weren't foe.

"Saving you." Rose ran to him and ran her hand down his right, carefully touching to the hilt of the dagger and sharply drawing her hand back when her father winced. "We need to get you out. Can you stand?"

"I can... try." He gasped, attempting to get up with the help of his daughter and slumping heavily with one arm over her shoulders when he finally stood.

"I can't fight the way back. I have to rely on you both to help me if we're attacked." Rose spoke as she helped her father move. Both Duncan and Roland nodded in agreement and the four made their way out of the armoury, Roland picked up the ancestral sword and shield, electing to sheath them and keep his own out.

Aegis plodded alongside his mistress and her father. He saw his mistress falter and her father wince when the dagger in his side jostled before she righted the man again. "Come on Papa. Just a few more steps and we'll be able to get you out." Rose didn't know how she'd get her father out her window but she'd have to try. She'd lower him down herself if needs be.

* * *

Somehow they'd managed to stagger the Teryn back to the bedroom wing and he collapsed onto Rose's bed. "I can't move more." He rasped, a glob of blood spilling over his lips.

"Yes you can! Now move before I throw you out this window!" Rose chided. She wasn't going to lose her parents in this attack.

"The dagger... I think it was poisoned." The Teryn grit his teeth as another wave of the toxins seemed to rattle through him. "You can't remove the dagger. I'll bleed out."

"I don't have any of my poison counters on me!" Rose slammed her palm into her chest of drawers. She'd tried not to notice the way his skin had been greying all the while she'd carried him. "They're in Derek's pannier! I'll get them." She scrambled over the bed and gripped the rope, standing on the ledge of the window. "Don't let anything happen to him!"

And with that she slid down the rope. The scene that greeted her was worse that her father turning ashen from the poison. The Teryna was bound and had a hand over her mouth, a dagger to her neck. "Now you're going to do exactly as I tell you." The voice of the solider holding her sounded from under his helmet. "You're going to get back up that rope and die like a good little girl and I promise not to hurt your mother. Understand?"

Eleanor Cousland bit the hand over her mouth. "He's lying! He'll kill us both!" And with that the dagger under her chin was thrust deep into her neck, the Teryna kicked away from him as she died. Rose reached as quickly as she could, her hands flitting to her pouch of poisons and picking out a tablet. She didn't know which it was but she rushed the man, knocking his helmet off with her elbow and then shoving said elbow into his throat.

He opened his mouth for air and in that brief second she slammed the hand with the poison tablet at his mouth. She knocked the Amaranthine soldier to the floor and straddled him, holding his nose tight with one hand and clamping his mouth shut with the other. He bucked and thrashed under her but she held on. This bastard would pay.

He caught his dagger still wet with her mother's blood on her leg in his thrashing but she kept on him until he started to thrash slower and stop. He was still breathing but was knocked out completely. She picked his dagger from his hand and showed him what little mercy she had left in her, slitting his throat with a vicious swipe executioner style before spitting on him.

It was then that she recognised the man. It was Thomas Howe. She turned away from him and moved to the still body of her mother. Rose frantically searched for a pulse on the Teryna and found none.

If only she'd brought her with her! How could any of this been foreseen! She didn't have time though. Her father's life hung in the balance ten feet above her head. She rifled through the pannier on the spooked horse, gently rubbing her hands down his flank. She needed the horse calm if she was to find the all-purpose poison counter. She put the glass vial in her mouth and with tears in her eyes started to climb back up to her room.

Duncan was standing beside Roland at the doorway, both holding the door with their backs. She knelt beside her father and tipped the lot of the counter down his throat, rubbing his neck to encourage the liquid down.

Aegis nuzzled the leg of the Teryn, whining for him to be better. He didn't like seeing his mistress so upset.

Then the Teryn started convulsing. "No! Not you too!" Rose beat her fists into the bed before leaning over her father. "You're not allowed to die! Not now!" She double checked the label on her poison counter and it was the correct vial.

She'd not killed her father. She held his hand as he slipped away, checking his pulse between his fits. She'd just been too late.

She should have been here in the castle. She should have saved them all. Fergus had trusted her to do this. "We need to leave!" Roland ground out as another hit came to the door.

"I'm not leaving. Those bastards want the Couslands and I'll go down fighting." Rose said so calmly that it even scared her. She was ready.

Duncan pushed off the door and grabbed the noble girl. "As my recruit I'm charged with your safety. Out." Then he picked her up with remarkable ease and pushed her to the ledge of the window. She only grabbed the rope in time to slide down painfully. The rough rope burning through her fingers as she slipped without stopping to the floor. Roland came out next with Aegis perched shakily over his shoulders like a mount, one hand holding the dog, the other on the rope as he abseiled the ten foot drop, he was followed by Duncan peering out the window, cutting the rope and scaling the wall down using the handholds.

* * *

Thunder was dead. It was only as she was on the floor that Rose realised that Thomas Howe had slit the throat of the horse too. No wonder Derek and Pale had been so spooked. It stood to reason that the snake's son had needed to grab her mother as quickly as possible. Aegis was tied to the back of Derek, whining about being on the horse but Rose didn't care for the moment.

Her dog would have to cope. She was going to have to leave - she was going to live - have to tell Fergus what had happened - she didn't relish the thought but it needed to be done - Howe would not profit from these deaths. She mounted the horse and kicked her heels back to start him into a charge.

She was vaguely aware of Roland and Duncan both on Pale galloping behind her.

* * *

They rode throughout the night, not stopping when the horses complained until it just wasn't feasible.

Rose finally had to stop moving. She slipped off the saddle, her legs sore and she collapsed into a ball in the mud, tears running unabashed down her pointed nose. Roland dismounted and untied Aegis from the back of Derek. "Take the horses to the stream. There's one only a minute from here." He said to Duncan before crouching down and rubbing the back of the archer. "Are you okay?"

"No I'm not bloody well okay!" She shrieked between sobs. "I saw my entire family fucking well die!"

"If it's any consolation - you're alive." He soothed weakly. Rose got out of her ball on the floor and tackled him to the floor from his crouch.

"It's no consolation!" She sobbed between slamming her fists down on his scale covered chest. They didn't deserve to die. None of them had. They were good people in the end of it all. Over-protective of the wrong ones. They should have been more vigilant over Oren and Oriana. They should have not been so accepting of a snake in their midst. Maker's teeth she'd called that weasel 'Uncle' today... yesterday. Dawn was breaking.

Roland took the beating until he noticed the blood soaking through the right side of Rose's leather leggings. "Maker's breath you're bleeding!" He pushed her off him with ease.

"I don't bleeding well care!" She screamed and attempted to get up before she was pinned.

"I do! I swore to your father I would become a Grey Warden too and make sure you're safe. I still hold that oath!" He growled and got up to go to the abandoned panniers. He was sure there was a health poultice left.

"He's dead! You're free of it!" She shouted at him before drawing her legs up to her face and sobbing into her knees, her tears renewed. "They're all dead. You can go and live a normal life without the servitude to my late family."

"Funnily enough I see a Cousland in front of me. Couslands don't give up! They strive onwards." He hadn't meant to sound so harsh but she looked up at him darkly from her sobbing. A smear of her own blood on her face from her leggings. "I'm very sorry but I cannot change what has happened milady."

"Don't call me that. It's Rose from now on. Nothing else."

She allowed him to remove her leggings and hose to apply the poultice over the bloody gash on her right leg. She'd hardly felt it with the adrenaline coursing in her body. Now in the calm after the storm she felt every brush of his fingers as he healed it up. She looked down at the jagged red puckered line running down her thigh.

That one was for her mother. There were so many people she'd failed and it marked her body as was right. She should have been more covered in such forming scars.

When the caring touches were finished and she put her ripped hose and leggings back up she just laid in the dry mud, falling into a fitful sleep and reliving the whole ordeal. Aegis curled up in her arms and she allowed herself to cry again into the mabari before she slept.

Aegis let his mistress weep. She needed to wash out the pain to move on again. He knew his mistress would carry on.

* * *

She hardly spoke the whole week's journey to Ostagar. Hardly ate more than she could before retreating into her tent. She'd found the book in her pannier just this evening.

"The Flight Of The Sparrow and other collected poems by Darrien Loren." He'd put it in there before she'd left. In the inside he'd written in his flourishing hand a note to her.

_For my friend The Sparrow,_

_A beautiful woman who will always hold my greatest admiration._

_Perhaps my sparrow will come to dinner with me after Ostagar?_

_- Darrien X _

She'd wept all the more at the words. He'd died at the hands of the same man as her family. In the wrong place at the wrong time. She hadn't know he'd held such affections for her and it pained her that he'd not had the courage to say anything while alive. She'd viewed him as a comrade and friend against the machinations of their mothers. He was fairly handsome she supposed. The thoughts weren't worth for much now and they wouldn't have saved him the bloody death he'd had.

But she had said she'd read the poem on the Highever Sparrow. She'd not thought he'd meant her but instead the actual bird native to the Terynir. She flicked through the book to the page directed her from the table of contents, settling herself in the pages.

The Highever Sparrow 

She flits in and out of the window,

A tune whistled on her lips as she flies true about the place.

She cannot stand to be in the shadow,

Of others - but in stays in her caged bedecked in lace.

.

It wasn't the epic he'd promised, simplistic and she held the leather bound book close to her chest.

* * *

They stopped in Lothering briefly to stable the horses. There wasn't the places at Ostagar for so many horses and Rose hefted the panniers onto her back with Roland, Aegis and Duncan. The dog didn't appreciate having the bulky rolled bedrolls on his back but didn't whine because the humans he accompanied were carrying heavier loads. Even his mistress had her belongings in her shoulder pack, the book she hugged to at night strapped to her chest.

Rose thought it fairly good fortune that Lothering was only two hours walk from Ostagar but the heat was still unbearable with the heavy packs and the horrible hot weather.

Bring on the rain. At least you could cry in the rain. She glared darkly at the cracked mud underfoot as if it personally affronted the memories of her family. She'd cried enough in front of people. She'd mourn in her own counsel. The pitying looks from Roland and Duncan were understandable but wearing on her.

It was Aegis that was making it worse. When the mabari noticed their master or mistress was distressed they took it as a crusade to cheer them up. He bounced around her knees, the cotton and oilskin of the bedrolls bobbing on his back.

She might have laughed at some time in regards to the sight. But such a sound felt false even in her head. She grit her teeth together and wiped a tendril of her sweaty brown hair off her forehead. Maker, everything seemed to be so much more grating.

Not an annoyance any more. Like it was trying to get on the bad side of her.

* * *

They sweated across the great stone bridge into the camp proper when who should be there to greet the group but King Calian?

"Ho there Duncan!" The King waved, smiling at the Grey Warden.

"Your majesty!" Duncan hastily bowed despite the weight on his back and he caught out of his peripheral vision both Roland and Rose follow suit. "I had not expected-"

"A royal welcome?" The King shook his head. "And miss talking to the Commander of the Grey Wardens? Pfft."

"Good day my King." Rose greeted politely. It didn't stand to be rude despite how contrary to her horrid mood the King was. He was a naturally jovial person. Much like she had once been in a way. Even if her humour had been a bit dry or slapstick at times. "I hope my brother arrived safely here?"

"I had thought he delayed." Calian's brow furrowed. A lot of troops had been delayed. Redcliffe, Amaranthine, Waking Sea, Dragons Peak... now a Cousland turned up without the Highever troops. This wasn't a good sign. He'd have the Bannorn calling their men back if the northern Terynir wasn't sending men. It was only fortune that Teryn Loghain had kept word with his three hundred strong troops from Gwaren and her surrounding countryside.

"Then he's dead too." Rose muttered darkly. "Forgive me my King but has word gotten to Ostagar yet of the slaughter in the north?" Her tone changed to flippant but she found herself uncaring of protocol for the moment. How could the King have even thought Highever would delay their troops?

"Slaughter?" His eyes widened. "News from the north has been slow."

"Arl Howe has turned traitor against the Couslands." Duncan cut in. He could see vein throbbing on his recruit's neck in anger. "The Teryn and Teryna have been killed."

"Slaughter was a more apt word." Rose glared.

"Rose." Calian levelled with his old friend. He'd never seen her both so angry and upset. If he'd not seen her and had the assurances of the Warden Commander he might never have believed this. "When I have dealt with this darkspawn threat I shall turn my armies north. Howe will not have your birthright."

"That means little now." She ground out. "It shall neither restore the lives lost nor my birthright. I have been conscripted into the Grey Wardens."

Calian looked over at Duncan. "Is that so? I had known you planned on recruiting." He took in a deep breath. "Then I shall place the Terynir in your care until a suitable person may take it."

"What do you plan on doing to the traitorous weasel that slaughtered my family?" She asked. Vengeance called in her blood. If he intended death for Howe she'd ask for the executioner's axe and would not have the traditional black hood.

"He will hang - have no doubt of that." He nodded. A brief and rather scary smile erupted on her face before dropping away, a mask of indifference slipping over.

"Then I ask for the lever to be in my hand." She took a deep breath in. "If that is all?"

"I wished to speak with you Duncan." Calian switched his attentions. "I have a horrible battle planning with Loghain later and would appreciate your presence there."

"I shall make sure of attendance then." Duncan said cordially.

"And if Rose could join us when she has become a Grey Warden?" Calian added. "I know of your tutelage in warfare. You could offer a voice for the young recruits that the Grey Wardens gathered?" The last he'd spoken to Bryce - Maker's breath he's dead - he'd said how Rose was using a sand modelled battlefield with tin representations of the Highever troops, addressing her elder brother through tactics. It was a subject she'd excelled in over her brother. Fergus was a good warrior no doubt, and both the Cousland children had hated lessons with their tutor. But only the younger ever tried to learn outside of those lessons. In 'important' things as Bryce had said to him at the time.

"I shall. But I would say I have been sorely tested in warfare. All people I thought to save have died so far." She sniffed.

"That being said, it was a surprise attack no? And the first you were in?" Calian attempted. She would agree with Loghain he was sure of it but he'd briefly watched her at the sand battlefield. If she was as sure of herself as she were back then, then she would pick apart any problems seen in the battle plans that older people might overlook. Not that he didn't trust Loghain. He was the Hero of River Dane. The strongest presence of men in the camp from a singular place.

"The surprise should have had no effect and it may have been the first but each person who died lost them due to myself." She straightened out her back. "I will not let that happen again."

"All the more reason to have you there!" The King brightened up. He had her there!

Rose sighed in acquiescence. "As you ask your majesty."

"Oh - need I remind you that the Redcliffe troops should be here in two days time." Duncan said to the King. "I checked in on my route up to Highever. The Arl was scrambling for men." Rose blinked at the information. Redcliffe was two thirds between Ostagar and Highever - closer to the old Tevinter fortress in fact.

"Eamon! Ha! He wants in on the glory here!" Calian shook his head.

"How many men have died in the battles so far?" Rose's eyebrows went up with her words.

Calian looked at her a moment. Shocked. "Truthfully - I do not know."

"Then it is too many. There is no glory here - just a threat to Ferelden." She strode past the King. He was shocked into silence. He knew her nature was to speak her mind mixed with a certain decorum that had been drummed into her. But that was utterly disrespectful. She'd have to be in that battle planning meeting. He just hoped she wouldn't tear him a new strip if he spoke out of hand.

"I should catch up to her. She'll gut someone if they attempt to console her at the moment." Roland finally spoke. He'd been content to listen in but now Rose was going to get herself into trouble.

"Are you a Grey Warden recruit too?" The King asked casually.

"Yes. Ser Roland Gilmore." He bowed again as he left Duncan and Aegis with the King. Even the bloody mabari was more sensible than him in following her.

"I should also make sure that my recruits have not gotten into trouble." Duncan bowed as he walked from the King. "Would you know how long the scouting Wardens have been here?"

"One arrived with one skittish and one very sickly looking elf not an hour ago. Warden Andras?" Calian mentioned to the retreating figure. He'd seen Wardens Caron and Kader both arrive the day before too, Caron with two fellow mages and Kader with two fellow dwarves.

"Thank you my King. I shall be at the meeting later." Duncan finished the conversation. He wasn't going to promise the presence of the last Cousland known to be living. But if she did live... he might have to bring her. The King seemed to know her. He also... requested her presence and never withdrew it.


	3. Recruit

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: T - for mild language and Daveth being suggestive and getting his gnads kicked. You finally get to meet the others now though. Constantly changing POV for this before returning to Rose. Nothing really happens but it's an important chapter.

* * *

The world that contained the encampment in Ostagar was so far removed from the outside world that it sent another shock into Rose's system. Tents and banners fluttered in the slight breeze of the summer day, mabari barked and people milled about, getting on with everyday things from carrying loaves of bread to sharpening swords and fletching arrows.

The thought crossed her mind that despite everything that had happened. Life continued. She shook her shoulders out under their heavy burden and took a deep breath of the animal muck and polishing oil that permeated the air alongside charred meats and the warm floury bready smells. This wasn't what her books had told her.

They told her of strategies, of preparing and fighting in battle. Not the tension in the air, the mere aroma of an army encampment. The sweat on her skin from moving about.

She gazed in awe at the Tevinter structures. It would have been amazing when first built. Oren would have loved to...

Oren. She closed her eyes a moment and let the pain wash through her, willing herself not to burst into tears again. She was in the army, a Grey Warden recruit. She wasn't a simpering fool. She was a Cousland and Maker give her strength she'd see the end of these darkspawn that were 'so much more of a threat than civil war'. Then she'd grieve and mourn in her spare time once they were dealt with. She'd restore what she could to people better than that snake who-

"Elgar'nan shemlen! That is not how you do it!" She spun to the harsh lyrical voice and was greeted by the sight of a frail elf, half his dark tan face covered in red ink and the other half in vine-like tattoos. He was leaning onto his knees, his breath coming out in almost death rattles. She noted the heavy greatsword on his back and gently nodded her head. It could be the weight of the sword but she was sure he looked ill. Almost - poisoned.

"Look mate - it's how I've done it since I were still in me ma's apron strings. I'm sure it's good enough." The man the elf had addressed responded. That was obviously a Denerim accent if she ever heard one. The 'a' elongated and the 'i' more like 'oi' when singularly in a word. She furrowed her brow. The elf was right though, he wasn't fletching his arrows correctly.

"The elf - forgive me but I don't know either of your names - is correct. You should rifle the feathers around the shaft. It means the arrow should fly truer over long distances." She joined their conversation. The elf stared at her with unveiled hatred in those milky grey eyes. She'd never seen any poison do that before.

"And how would a shemlen know of Dalish arrow craft?" He glared. Rose furrowed her brow before it softened again upon instinct at the memory of a mother's chiding.

"I read it in a book about the Night Elves. The elves that helped Ferelden gain independence from Orlesian Occupation." She answered stiffly, her gaze unwavering in the face of the elf. "I'd prefer it if you did _not_ call me 'shemlen' though - my name is Rose and I am a Grey Warden recruit."

"And so am I... reluctantly." The elf sighed, his anger was disappearing a bit since the sickness was taking more toll on his body, he was becoming weak. "Warden Andras told me I'd have to get on with your lot, I will speak to you but do not expect camaraderie. We may have been placed in similar situations but there is nothing we share."

"Don't expect any more in return then than you give." Rose squared out her shoulders and narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what the problem this elf had with her and regained a bit of her manners - it was obvious he did not like her for her race - being a human there was no need to further perpetuate any stereotypes he may hold. Her father had drummed into his children about being as polite to elves and any other race they might encounter in their lives. She'd lost containment of her decorum in front of the King. He'd not minded but it was a very painful bit of truth to her that she was different now. For all her impetuousness she wouldn't have imagined being so impolite to the King. She would treat this elf with the respect he deserved. "Would you know of where I might put my pack Ser elf?"

"I know!" The man who'd been incorrectly fletching spoke. "Come with me dove. I'll be nicer to you that Llars here."

* * *

The elf glared at the both of them before walking off still bent awkwardly and rasping for breath. He was not amused with the latest recruit to have shown up. He was not happy with the flat ear that accompanied Warden Andras and not happy with the flat ear mage. They were subservient. He would never bow like they did.

Then of course there were the durgen'len. The blonde one that sneered at the sky and the red-headed one that was as stoic as the stone she was from. Neither was so bad as the shemlen that was supposed to be looking after them though. He took a deep breath and coughed up another splutter of blood into his hands. The Grey Wardens had better have a cure for this sickness if it meant he was to leave his clan because of it.

"Are you alright Llars?" The flat-ear he'd had to travel with. She looked at him with such pity. He did not like it whatsoever. He did not like her either but she was there when he had needed to find Tamlen. He closed his eyes, trying to remember his fellow hunter. Creators - he wished they'd never encountered those shemlen. Had killed them before they'd told them about the cave. He'd be with his clan still.

"Speak to me when this sickness is cured seth'lin - then we shall see." He strode past her, attempting to keep himself upright. He didn't want her pity. She wouldn't understand what it was to leave a life she'd never comprehend.

"Take that sword from your back. You're in pain." She moved quickly around him and he flinched away from her fingers as they reached for his blade. He scowled and kept away. "If you so insist. Let me at least give you an elfroot curative. Ease it a bit friend."

"I am not falon to you." He spat. Why did these other have to show him such sympathies? He did not ask for it and did not want it. They should leave him be. They should give him their cure so he could keep his word to the Keeper and become this Grey Warden. This playing with him was going to make him weaker from the sickness.

* * *

She stared at Llars leaving to Maker knows where. Why would no-one accept the help they needed? A ginger-haired shem dashed past her, two swords at his hips and two shields strapped onto his back as well as a large pack. Behind him another of Rivaini descent and one of those mabari that was covered in rolled bedrolls bobbing on his stocky body. The man with the animal looked as if he had recently seen battle if the pinking line on his cheek was any clue.

Perhaps she'd speak to Daniel. He seemed amicable enough when he wasn't around that Alistair-shem. She just couldn't understand why a fellow elf would be so cruel. She walked to the recruit tent and paused as she noted the elven mage was laying on his cot, reading a book in symbols she couldn't make out. "Daniel!" She called his attention and his tattooed face peeked up. She preferred the tattoos Daniel had to Llars, they were not as harsh nor as reminiscent of blood. They were... pretty she supposed. "Maker - have you been sleeping in your book again?"

"No more than usual Lindra." He shrugged, looking back at his book on Tevine runes, his long white hair flopping over the page. He brushed it back over his long pointed ear and adjusted himself on his elbows again. He couldn't fall asleep again. The Fade had been a... worrisome place as of recent times. There was something closer about the ever-present black city. "There's two more recruits by the way. How would Llars put it? Shemlen?"

Lindra looked over at the far corner of the large tent where a shem woman was seated on a once empty cot, sighing and rubbing a point of tension on her neck. Her whole demeanour was stiff and proper and the elf could have smelt the blue-blood from the angled poise she had. "Oh... greetings." She kicked off her boots and went to her own cot on the female half of the tent. That bloody shem that drooled and chased skirts was in the female half of the tent. "And if you don't move Daveth you'll get a kick in the nuts."

The fellow rogue looked down at her on her cot and smiled. Argh. "I could do that for you." The shem woman smiled. "He's been quite the bothersome thing and I've barely known him five minutes." Even her accent was blue-blooded. Lindra ground her teeth together. One thing she had hoped for before this elusive Commander came back was that if any more recruits arrived that none would be nobles. There was no other reason for anyone else to be in the Grey Warden tent. She'd promised herself though that she wouldn't let her anger cloud her judgement ever again. Not since the Denerim guards took Soris. Warden Andras could have recruited them both... why hadn't he recruited them both?

"Now dove, I ain't that bad." Daveth grinned down at the blue-blood. The shem woman lifted her leg sharply and Daveth was on the floor, his hands clutching at his leather clad crotch.

"I'm not anyone's dove." She ground out. "If you continue to harass me you'll get more than my shin in your privates." Lindra watched as the woman seemed to deflate and Daveth shook his head getting off the floor and slinking to his cot.

"I've wanted to do that all day and I've only been here an hour tops." The elf shrugged before searching under her cot and bringing out a small wooden flute. The blue-blood fought dirty. Or just was as pissed off with Daveth as she was. It was slightly... refreshing to see one of them sort of on her side.

"You play?" The woman asked before she scowled at herself and deflated again. "Of course you do. My head is screwed on backwards today... it's been... the most I've spoken in a week."

"Then be quiet shem." Lindra shook her head. Whatever this shem wanted from her she'd ignore her for the most part. She'd keep her eyes on the blue-blood but for now - she could be ignored.

"Move it out! One Princess coming in a foul mood!" Lindra looked up and groaned. If shem blue-bloods were bad, the dwarf one was worse. She had taken a liking in the short time she'd met the one with a tattoo on her face, she was... as disrespectful of people as she'd been a short while ago. The red-haired warrior dwarf was coming in first before she almost attacked herself onto the cot next to her. Yes - she liked Una.

Then of course, with her limited meeting of dwarves, she preferred Una over Cari. Cari was a bitch with a nose as upturned as any shem noble. The blue-blood would most probably like her.

* * *

"Ancestors arse." Una growled into her pillow. If the 'sky' wasn't enough to put up with then Wardens Kalder and Cari Aeducan had been Void sent. The ex-princess was just a wonderful person really, if the sodding serrated daggers she kept on her all times was any guess. That and the scowl.

That Kalder bloke pissed her off too. Ex-Legion of the Dead until he got tainted he told them. At least those two humans and elf with those weird powers weren't arsed about the brand on her cheek like it was something to be spat at. That was nice. "Princess need a good bolt in her arse?" She looked up at the white-haired elf. She chuckled to herself. Princess did need a bolt of some form up her arse. Preferably a barbed one.

"Hey Una. Cari giving you a tough time again?" The elf with coal-black hair asked.

"I am giving no-body a hard time." She shoved her face back into the pillow when the Aeducan entered the tent. She heard the sneaky bitch hit her cot and the crack of joints. "I simply was asking how a brand ever managed to get hold of a greatsword."

"Fucking nobles." Una ground out. "My sister whored herself and I killed sodders like you for breakfast. Then we had to do all the more to get me a sword. So shut your hole."

"Remember who you're speaking to." The Aeducan pursed her lips, her tone light and betraying the threat. Sodding stone she wanted out of this. Could she go find a hole and just die? Please? Her Ancestors were criminals - could they rise out the ground and swallow the bitch whole?

* * *

Cari noted another in the tent. Oh good, another woman. There weren't enough. Hopefully this one would give an Ancestor forsaken care about proper etiquette. Unlike the duster and skinny elf. "Stone me."

"Please." The brand scowled. She glared a moment.

"Are you another recruit?" The woman in the corner asked. She was... well spoken and the bow and quiver on her cot beside her as she fletched meant she was a rogue too. Not a dagger person. Shame. It was good to get up and personal with the enemy. She peered closer and made a quick evaluation. Wiry, this proud sort of posture, strong features. Freckles. She'd noticed a lot of the paler humans got those in that stone-forsaken sunlight. The woman was staring back at her with the same evaluating gaze, her eyes drawn to the scarring over her right eye.

"Don't stare." She muttered and found her cot, slipping the coverlets off and folding them to fashion something more comfortable to sit on. "But in response, Cari Aeducan."

"Rose Cousland." The woman answered with. "But most people call me Rosie."

"A fucking Cousland?" The skinny elf shot up from her cot and stared at the woman. She didn't care what that meant.

"Yes. The last one." This Rose drawled before closing her eyes. Cari shrugged. If she'd had her planning come into fruition she'd gladly be the last Aeducan. It was a shame her younger brother was just that bit slimier than her. Bastard.

"Milady! I couldn't find you! I had an angry elf tell me where you were eventually!" Her head snapped up to yet another person in this tent. Another tall one. He reminded her of Gorim in a way. There was this unwavering quality in his voice.

* * *

Rose didn't know how she was coping with this. Meeting so many recruits all at once. She tried to keep track of her thoughts. It was better than dwelling on the events of a week past, but it was merely something that pieced the veil into her mind ever so briefly.

So far she'd figured out little. There was Daveth and he was good with his bow and terrible at fletching. He also spewed an innuendo a minute until she'd just snapped. He didn't seem to be holding a grudge about it though and lounged on his cot nakedly eyeing everything female that was in the tent or coming into it. He also had the tell-tale scars on his thumbs from self-taught dagger wielding. The swagger of a man from the streets and fingers that twitched when he walked past the quartermaster's stall and forge. A thief of some sort she assumed.

There was Llars Mahariel, Daveth had mainly told her about the elf. He had some sort of sickness that the Grey Wardens could only cure if he joined. That sounded suspicious but she kept her mouth shut about it. Surely if he was ill healing magic and some potion curatives would aide his recovery? Did becoming a Warden make one immune to this illness that had befallen him? That would mean becoming a Grey Warden changed something about them or the Grey Wardens were callous enough to deny him unless he joined. Neither boded well.

There was Daniel Surana, who was stuck into his book when she arrived. He didn't speak much from what she'd seen. She'd not recognised the language he was reading in. He'd briefly mentioned that it was magic and important. His white hair was so... strange though. Like he'd had bleach poured over him. Even his skin was pale, the thin tattoos on his face being the only real contrast he had other than the garish orange robe with purple band on his arm.

There was Lindra, and she looked... thin. There was this spunky attitude but it was very subdued from what she could see. She wasn't sure what sort of weaponry the elf wielded. She wasn't carrying any weapon visible and wasn't in a robe like Daniel. It confused her. There were callouses on her hands that she'd seen when the elf picked up her flute. Other than that she hadn't seen much of what sort of fighter this elf was. The Grey Wardens wouldn't recruit where no skill was there would they? She could be another one more like her - skilled in poisons and traps over actual weaponry.

Then the first dwarf she'd seen since the smith her father had commissioned to make the new heraldry shields over the main hall. Una. A muscle-bound woman who had thrown a well used and cared for greatsword on the floor under her cot as she flumped to it. A small backwards blocky S seemed to be branded on her face, a mixture between scar and tattoo. Either a sign of strength she assumed or some ritual she was unaware of. Her cropped short red hair was woven into dreadlocks of some sort - and it suited her if she thought on it. It added to her as a whole warrior.

The second dwarf however was slighter, wide hips and a very fake smile. There were serrated daggers on both her hips and she noted the woman didn't have the dagger scars on her thumbs. She had been taught how to use them by someone who knew what they were doing. Her tone was also refined as she spoke. Cari Aeducan she'd addressed herself as. Her icy blonde hair was up in a sensible bun at the nape of her neck, three thin plaits extending from the left side of her fringe to tuck into the bun. She was also a classic beauty but for scarring over her right eye and eyebrow.

"Would that angry elf be Llars?" Daveth smirked. "He's always angry."

"I wouldn't have a clue Ser." Roland strode over to her and put his secondary set of weaponry onto the rack in the middle of the room before seating next to her. "I was worried."

"Why hello there! So many people I can't even comprehend!" Her gaze snapped up to a man in a long powder blue robe striped with a purple sash extending from shoulders and down in a long belt. The purple was just like the purple band on Daniel's arm she noted. Did that mean anything or was it peacocking? "And who might this new ravishing beauty be?"

"Oh Maker's sake - will you shut it Xavier?" Daniel snapped, at the same time snapping his book shut. "I've been trying to read for the past two hours and four people turned up? Where in the Void have you been?" That was the most she'd heard him speak yet.

The human with blue and purple robes shook his head and sat onto his cot opposite the elven mage. "Young one, I have been detained by the ever interesting Wynne. You can imagine the conversation I had with her."

"Hypocritical bitch." Daniel snorted. "That explains where then. I need a breath of air - is that fucking templar around or will I be forced to be around him?"

"Not that I've seen." This Xavier shrugged. "I thought he was looking around for The Warden Commander though. We got word he'd arrived. So I haven't had my answer from the new lady in the room."

"Rose. And this is Roland." She looked around. So many people. The tent was positively heaving.

"Recruits! Out of the tent!" A sing-song Orlesian accent came from outside the tent, lilting and really grating on her. Just what she wanted to hear. "I expect weaponry brought."

"Warden Caron will be the death of us." Daniel scowled and picked up what looked like a gnarled tree branch from under his cot, slipping on thin leather boots. Rose figured it was a staff... obviously - him being a mage. This Xavier had a much nicer one, pale silverite with runic patterns all the way down the otherwise unadorned pole.

Everyone in the tent was getting up and putting weaponry into holsters, sheaths and scabbards though. Rose put the arrows she'd re-fletched into her quiver, it was a good habit to make sure her arrows were in good nick and most if not all of them had been used recently.

* * *

Roland had noticed a change in Rose, there was a certain distance she was placing on herself, a certain aloof nature that had dropped over whole personality. A way of coping with all the changes that had happened as of late. He reminded himself that this wasn't the noble he'd sparred with just over a week ago, the girl that had sat with her brother and gone over tactics with him for the Highever troops.

Almost in response to his thoughts Rose grabbed his arm as he went to get off her cot and go with the others outside to this Orlesian. "Rory..." His heart leapt at the childhood nickname. "I need to ask you to do something for me. And... it's going to be painful."

"Anything milady." He breathed, gently removing her fingerless-leather glove from his forearm.

"I need you to find Fergus. Just go and find my brother. I need to know what happened to him." She looked down at the dusty mud on the floor of the tent. "I know you wanted to be a Grey Warden but I need you to uphold the oath you made to my parents. Find Fergus and protect him. Take the family sword and shield and pass them onto him if he lives... if he does not you heard the King - and I would have you be my heir to the Terynir."

He gulped and thought on it. He'd be forswearing his promise to the Teryn to protect his daughter. But his daughter was asking him of him this task. With a heavy heart he agreed. He would do this. She smiled for the first time since the attack on Highever. "Fergus will be the Teryn. I swear to you that I'll make sure he lives and if we encounter Howe I'll ensure he receives a bloody end."

"Keep him alive Rory." She straightened out her posture as she stood and put her quiver and bow to her back. "I want to end the bastard myself. If Fergus wishes it he can do it but I would prefer first blood from that snake."

"As you wish milady." He nodded and closed his eyes. The Couslands were his family ever since his father had sent him to squire there at twelve years of age, Rose and Fergus his only true friends. "Maker keep you Rosie."

"And you." She nodded in return and drew herself close to him and placed a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek. "I expect both of you well if I see you again."

* * *

Rose left the tent and took her place amongst the other recruits, noticing another elf with similar vine-like tattoos and dual daggers bringing Llars to join them. Duncan joined the grouping outside the tent with a dark-skinned, bald dwarf with blocky black tattoos all over his face and a heavy maul strapped to his back as well as a man in splintnail armour with dirty blond hair and a sword and shield on him. Aegis bounded up to her from the Commanders feet and she idly stroked the dog into submission at her thigh. Where Duncan had put the bedrolls and pack he'd had on himself and the dog by her guesses was a tent for the actual Wardens.

"Recruits. To attention." The same lilting Orlesian from an icy faced woman, grey hair in a severe crop to her head with a singular long braid behind her ear and trailing onto her shoulder. She was in navy robes with a silverite chestpiece over her heart. "The Commander will address you in turn."

"That's fine Warden Caron." Duncan put a hand on her shoulder and she stepped back to the dark tattooed dwarf and the elven rogue that had taken place behind him. "Recruits... where are Sers Jory and Roland? I had asked that all recruits were here."

"Merde. Jory is most probably by the Revered Mother again. I shall fetch him." The Orlesian mage... because Rose supposed that she was a mage by way of the robes rolled her eyes and moved with purpose toward the east of the encampment.

"I tasked Roland with something. It is upon my understanding that he was only to become a Warden at my father's behest?" Rose answered the Commander. "My brother needs the Captain of the Highever troops. I asked that he take that as his duty rather than protection of myself."

"You think your family is more important than what us Grey Wardens have to do?" The dwarf growled. "Typical sodding surfacer noble."

"No, but civil war in the north will be just as much a problem to Ferelden as these darkspawn." Rose responded with a clenching of her teeth. "Without a Teryn, Highever will be unprotected. Civilians will die from the inevitable war, I asked that Roland find my brother so that less will lose their lives."

"Warden Kalder. I find myself agreeing with my recruit. Leave the matter." Duncan put a hand sharply across to finish the argument and Rose narrowed her eyes at the dwarf. "If you could introduce the two recruits you have brought?"

"Right." He pulled his belt tighter around him. "The one with the sword as big as her is Una Brosca. Ex-Carta. The blonde dwarf is Cari Aeducan, she was the Commander of the dwarven armies."

"As in Princess Cari Aeducan?" Duncan questioned.

"Does it mean anything to a cloudhead?" Cari looked down her nose before catching Duncan's gaze. "I hadn't thought it would. None so far have cared."

"Not to a Warden." Duncan replied. "Warden Andras, you also brought two recruits?"

"Yes." The tattooed elven rogue stepped forward and motioned to his two recruits. "Fellow Dalish elf, Llars Mahariel, son of my old Keeper, as I'm sure you can feel, he has been tainted Commander. I also bring Lindra Tabris of the Denerim Alienage."

"Greetings." Duncan bowed his head to the two elves and Rose noted how Lindra and Llars both furrowed their brows. "It has been a while since I had a recruit from the Dalish, Warden Andras was the first elven Warden we had in Ferelden near on ten years ago."

"That is because you must have overlooked us shemlen." Llars snorted. "It means nothing to me though - continue your inspection of us so that I may be cured of this sickness."

"And two mages?" Duncan turned his attentions away from the sickly elven warrior. "Might I know who Warden Caron recruited?"

"Enchanter Xavier Amell." The blue and purple mage smiled. "Elementalist, Arcanist and Spirit Healer."

"Daniel Surana. Spiritualist and Arcanist." The elven mage added, shaking some of his long white hair off his shoulder. Rose didn't understand it but Duncan hmm'ed and smiled to himself as he continued down the line.

"As I'm sure you've all met now then; this is Daveth-" He was cut off when the Orlesian mage returned.

"Ser Jory was indeed by the Revered Mother. As I suspected. That woman does not scare me boy. I have autonomy from her blessed Chantry." She pushed the knight into line and crossed her arms. Rose recognised him from the tourney in Highever over a month ago. He'd won in both the joust and melee if she was correct while she'd come second in the archery. Of course, she'd entered under a false name and wore a headscarf in the abominably hot weather to conceal her identity and make sure she wasn't allowed to win for her position.

"Thank you Warden Caron." Duncan sighed as rubbed a spot of tension on his forehead. "So I'm sure you have all met Daveth, and this is Ser Jory of Highever. My last recruit is Rose Cousland-" Duncan was once again cut off but this time by Ser Jory.

"Milady!" He yelped. Rose groaned. This was going to get tiring. "What are you doing here as a recruit?"

"I will grow tired of that in a short time." Rose ground out before she remembered herself.

"What a blue-blood wants to be in the Wardens is of no consequence." Lindra muttered. "She's here." Rose could have thanked the elf for her input if not for the 'no consequence' comment. She bit her tongue and nodded toward Duncan to continue.

"As I was going to say. I am tasking all of you recruits and my Senior Wardens to go into the wilds and retrieve the a vial of darkspawn blood. I must know that each of you can stand as troops against their threat. After speaking with Wardens Caron, Kalder and Andras I have placed you accordingly." He paused for breath and pulled a piece of vellum from a pouch on his belt.

"Recruits Daveth, Llars and Xavier will be with Warden Kalder." The Denerim rogue, Dalish warrior and Enchanter moved to the dwarf.

"Recruits Lindra, Daniel and Cari will be with Warden Andras." The black-haired elf, elven mage and dwarven rogue moved to the Dalish rogue. Rose assumed that Warden Andras was Dalish as Llars was.

"Recruits Una, Rose and Jory are to go with Warden Caron." Rose bit her tongue about being placed in care of the Orlesian. "I was going to have put Roland with Warden Andras but seeing as he is missing in action I ask that my Junior Warden, Alistair - take his place."

Rose moved begrudgingly to join the dwarven and human warriors alongside the Orlesian mage. Aegis plodded alongside her. "I also ask that if you could all be in search of some another items of concern. It has come to my attention that an old outpost we Wardens held before such remote towers could no-longer be proper cared for still holds some treaties of support that will aide us in the time to come. The Wardens in the groups will know how to retrieve these once the tower has been located."

"Do you not have a map of the Wilds?" Rose asked.

"Unfortunately I do not. The Wilds are vast and filled with dangers many-fold. No Cartographers have had the gall to map them." Duncan glanced over the recruits and Grey Wardens assembled. "If any of you wish to chart the location of the Warden tower I would be grateful."

"I could do that." Xavier answered. "I have an eye for such things."

"Thank you... Amell?" He squinted a moment.

"I prefer my given name if it is all the same Commander." Xavier responded.

"I'll see you later Duncan." The blond splintnail armoured Warden nodded toward Duncan with a smile on his face. Rose followed the Orlesian mage as she made her way over to a heavy wooden log gate.

She was going to have to get used to being around the Orlesian, she'd been put in this troop for some reason. Did Duncan know of her dislike of Orlesians? She'd been placed with people she wasn't used to having fought alongside she supposed.

That was an idea. Think on Duncan's reasons for troop distribution. She was with a mage and two greatsword wielding warriors, one Orlesian, one Highever man and a dwarf. It was obviously to see if she could cope with both the new - the dwarf and mage as well as the familiar - the knight and physical weapons.

She thought that Una could possibly need testing on fighting alongside humans and mages. That made sense.

Jory didn't seem to have any like of the Orlesian mage - so that was his reason for being put in this group.

Then there was Warden Kalder's group. The archer, Dalish warrior, mage and dwarven warrior. That would mean Llars needed to interact with both dwarves and humans. From her brief explanation from Daveth, the elf wasn't a fan of anyone other than Warden Andras.

The archer was placed in an all male group - most probably to stop him from getting distracted. Daveth did seem a little too focused on the women recruits.

The Enchanter most probably needed to interact with people who fought with physical weaponry. So Duncan's reasoning so far seemed sound.

Then there was Warden Andras' group. Dwarven princess from what she understood on the short conversation, an elf she still didn't know what weaponry she wielded as she didn't seem to pick up any when exiting the tent and the elven mage. Roland would have been placed with them but this Alistair... she assumed the blond one was he.

The dwarf obviously needed to fight alongside other races - hence being placed in a mainly elven grouping with a human. And also magic. Rose noted that each group had a mage in. Maybe all of them needed to understand how to fight alongside magic. She knew she did. She'd seen the templars come to Highever once when one of the elven servant's children had manifested magical powers. That was her contact with magic. So she was sorely in need of understanding the powers. Especially if she was supposed to be at this meeting later with the King.

Lindra... why didn't she know what the elf wielded. She carried a very large shoulder satchel that clinked with glass. So a master of poisons? She'd have to compare notes with her. As she was watching she saw the elf flex her wrists and two long slim daggers sprouted from under her long leather gloves. That would explain how she had softened callouses on her hands and no scars on her thumbs. She wielded her daggers from the wrists. Lindra flexed her wrists again and the daggers retracted just a quickly. She must have been testing their mechanisms.

The elven mage obviously needed to know how to fight alongside physical weapon carriers. She was repeating herself over that.

So it was all a test of some sort on their ability to fight alongside each other as well as against the darkspawn. That was the reasoning behind getting their blood. The Wardens with them were to be the ones grading them and reporting back to Duncan.

This would be interesting. She'd have an outlet now for her frustrations against the anger and melancholy she'd cultivated a week long. She'd picture each of these darkspawn as 'Uncle' Rendon himself. It would feel good to have her arrows in them in preparation for when she finally got to kill the bastard. She vowed he would suffer an end at her hands.


	4. Wilds

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: T for - language and some battle scenes.

* * *

Rose watched as the Warden Andras' group was the first to head into the wilds. Lindra was shifting her shoulder satchel tighter on her back to her leathers and her wrists were flexing with her daggers popping out and slipping back in with a loud _shhing_ each time. Almost like a metallic heartbeat with the regularity of the sonorous noise.

She noted that Cari was hardly affected by the idea of going to see the darkspawn in person. In fact, she looked the least worried over Warden Andras.

Daniel was clutching his staff with almost a death grip, his pale skin going as white as the clouds about the knuckles until he yelped and he brought his palm up to his face and picked a splinter from the skin with his teeth.

Alistair also didn't look as perturbed as either recruit elves. There was some tension on his forehead Rose noted, but other than that she didn't think he saw these darkspawn as such a threat.

All the more reason that a brewing civil war was more important. "You do as I do." She was brought out of her analysis of the fellow recruits and Wardens by the low voice. She turned and saw the tall mage leaving on his staff.

"And what do I do Ser?" She pursed her lips.

"You watch people." He shrugged. "It's a habit Cari and Lindra both have too. Llars is more watchful of everything but people and Una just hits things that look threatening so no sudden movements around her. You also want to be careful around Daniel as he's likely to blow up around that Alistair fellow."

"Thanks for the warning." Rose watched him as he went back to Warden Kalder's group. He was sorting out getting some vellum and pencils for making a basic ordinance map of the Wilds. That was a good skill she supposed. He had the brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen. Like topaz or another blue brilliant gem. Those eyes watched everything with unveiled curiosity just as she evaluated and categorised it in her head.

Llars was leaning into the kennels and Rose carefully walked over as to not startle the elf. "I hear you shemlen, do not get closer."

"I was just wondering what you were looking at." She shrugged. She needed to understand these people if she was to be alongside them. She wouldn't let what happened to her parents happen to her. If she got close to anyone unless she'd understood what their intentions were and what made them tick.

"The da'fen. I feel his sickness. He is like me." Llars responded with. Rose followed his milky grey gaze to the mabari secluded from the others in the kennels, the kennel-master trying to wrangle him to muzzle the war beast. The grey hound was obviously not a pre-bred mabari but those milky eyes were not natural for any dog. "Shemlen, if you cause more distress to that noble beast I shall teach you what the Dalish do to shemlen abusers!"

"Excuse me?" The kennel-master jumped out of the way from a weak attack via the mabari and then lifted himself over the gate to greet them. "I was just trying to muzzle him. His master died in the last skirmish and he was tainted. If I can't muzzle the poor thing to cure him then I'll have to put him down."

"If you treat your animals with such disrespect it is no wonder he tries to bite." The Dalish elf snorted. "Give me his muzzle. I will calm him."

"You're one of those recruits aren't ya?" The kennel-master looked at him and Rose caught that evaluating look on his face. A lot of people did it more often than she'd noticed before. "You can try for sure. You don't have to worry about anything other than slobber and teeth marks." Then he handed the leather muzzle over.

The elf stared at it and undid the metal clips before opening and closing the gate behind him. "Ir abelas da'fen for your master." He soothed. "I need to put this on you for the shemlen to heal you. Hamin da'fen." The dog looked at him and bowed his head to the Dalish elf.

Llars moved with startlingly speedy reflexes to hasten the muzzle on the mabari before striding out of the pen with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "Impressive. Mabari don't back down easily." Rose stated in clear admiration. She could trust this one, that much she was sure. He might not seem to be agreeable but he was not a threat if a mabari didn't think he posed a threat. That was a good endorsement from something that wasn't able to lie.

"Animals talk if you so listen. The shemlen would do well to understand the animals that serve them so." Llars snorted, his milky gaze went to the kennel-master. "You may heal him now."

"You know... seeing as your lot are going into the wilds there's a flower I could use to make an ointment to improve his chances. It's white with a red centre. If you come across it..."

"I am not your servant." Llars' eyes narrowed at the man. "I will only get this flower if I see it but do not expect it." And with that the elf left. Rose wondered exactly what had happened when Aegis nuzzled to her thigh and she the ears of the ignored hound.

"Yes. He's interesting." She whispered. "I think we can trust that one too."

Aegis gave her a happy bark.

"If you've finished playing with the dogs elf. We're going out next!" Warden Kalder sounded out. "Mage! Elf! Archer! In formation! We're going now!"

Rose made herself scarce while the dwarf issued orders, reluctantly returning to Warden Caron and the group she'd been assigned to. It was good to get a grip on these other recruits.

"How can you wield that?" Ser Jory tapped the pommel of Una's greatsword over her head and she glared at him.

"Ever had someone put a sodding red-hot iron to your face salroka?" She growled.

"I think I would have remembered-" He was cut off from answering the rhetorical question by a quick elbow in the gut.

"Think about how much it hurts and ya can throw ya weight behind any sodding weapon. Ancestors arse you're thick." Una crossed her arms. "If I weren't conscripted I'd be off like that ginger bloke."

"It's an honour to join the Grey Wardens." He responded with, childishly sticking his tongue out.

"Honour is not found here mon ami. Just darkspawn and blood." The Orlesian mage sighed. "We leave in a few minutes, try to get along for long enough that I am not forced to zap you both."

* * *

Rose kept her bow out at all times when they finally left the encampment, copying the cautious gesture of the Orlesian. The more they walked in the muddy, stinking place, the more the Orlesian seemed to be ill at ease.

"Recruit Cousland, go up that tree and tell me how many darkspawn you see. I sense a group ahead." Rose glowered inwardly about the woman giving her orders but nevertheless looked at the sturdy tree, a white flower with a red centre at the base. She quickly picked it and slipped it into the laces that held the oilskins over her boots before grabbing a low hanging branch and hoisted herself up the rough bark.

All the while she climbed the dwarf was pursing her lips. "How in the Void can you stand to be off the ground?" She spoke.

"Easy. I have to pretend I have wings so if I fall I can fly." She quipped before shifting her weight onto one of the load bearing branches and settled onto her front over the thick branch. She drew her bow off her back and peered over the landscape, brown and twisted creatures of some sort milling about in militaristic fashion. She grabbed an arrow and took in a deep breath as she counted the figures before letting her arrow fly.

The creature she hit went down with a splash into the water behind it. "There's only five now." She answered.

"Good. Come on recruits. We have a skirmish upon us." The Orlesian closed her eyes briefly and adjusted her grip on her staff. Una and Jory gripped their greatswords tighter and Rose could see the creatures advancing toward them. She reached back for another arrow. "Now - Charge!"

The two warriors moved together and rose loosed an arrow at the furthest twisted creature. It hardly faltered as the arrow glanced off it's angled armour and she reached back for another. While she readied herself for another shot she saw Una almost collide with one of the short ones, the pommel of her sword thrown into it's head before she twisted the grip on the sword and beheaded it with a nasty slick of blood thrown over the mud and her face.

Jory gutted one of the taller ones with a wide sweeping arc that near bisected it and the last two were suddenly overcome by the very stone beneath their feet. It rose up and stuck to them in pointed globs before suddenly the points shifted and the two creatures started bleeding out and screaming from their gaping maws. She let her arrow she'd been holding at it whizzed through the air and went clean through the creature she'd targeted's neck and it gurgled and dropped.

The Orlesian snapped her fingers and the stone disappeared into dust before the two creatures slumped to the floor. Maker's breath. They were darkspawn?

"Disgusting monsters no? Easy enough to kill but not pleasant." The Orlesian sauntered up to one of the two she'd killed and lifted it from under the armpits. "This one is called a hurlock. It resembles the human race. The short ones are called genlocks. They are similar to dwarves and so do not have magic. If we encounter any that look like tall hunched shadows with pointed ears you should know they are called sharlocks. Or shrieks for the piercing noise they make to disarm their enemies, they are related to the elven race. If we are unlucky we might encounter what is known as a qunlock. The common man calls them an Ogre."

"What's that one?" Rose shouted from her perch in the tree. The Orlesian dropped the hurlock and grabbed her staff of the floor, cursing in her native language.

"A darkspawn emissary. A mage. All of you to arms, they are all practitioners of blood magic!" Rose grabbed another arrow and narrowed her eyes at the creature advancing toward them, what looked like a cross between a sword and a tree branch in it's hands. The hands themselves were dripping with blood and the Orlesian was the one that was target of a spell.

She was lifted off her feet into the air, her back arching until a sickening crack resounded in the hot sticky air. Rose found herself gasping for the air and she saw Aegis charge toward this emissary. He latched onto a withered leg and started shaking it. Una was right behind the mabari and her sword went violently through it.

The emissary laughed. It was a horrid cackling noise where the sound was more rasp, anger and twisted joy and a wave of power radiated outwards, knocking both mabari and dwarf off their feet.

Jory charged next and Rose loosed an arrow from her perch that went through it's head as Jory cleaved it in twain from the waist. Una scrambled up from the dusty mud, not bothering to shake it off as she rushed over to the Orlesian who had dropped to the floor when the emissary was ended. "Get up salroka. Battle's over."

"The Dwarf." The Orlesian smiled and Rose slid down off her perch on the tree, the edge of her tunic snagging briefly on the bark before she tugged it free. "The Noble." She smiled brighter and Aegis came up and licked her face. "Even the dog."

"Is she delirious?" Jory breathed.

"The Knight!" She closed her eyes. "Go... get The Healer from Warden Kalder's group. I... need my back... broken."

"Count on us salroka." Una stood and looked around. "Where in stone could that group be?"

"I haven't a clue." Rose furrowed her brow and looked around herself. "I'll get back up the tree. You three can protect her."

* * *

Rose was squinting at the unchanging brown for what felt like an age when she saw a flicker of flames not two hundred yards to the west. She was disturbed when a raven fluttered onto the branch and edged toward her. "Shoo bird. I'm trying to find our healer." She muttered before reprimanding herself for talking to a bird. It seemed to work and the bird fluttered off as abruptly as it had arrived, heading in the direction she'd seen the flames.

"There's fire not two hundred yards west. Can Xavier do fire?" She asked of the two able to speak below her. Jory looked uneasy but eventually confirmed that he could indeed as he'd lit the campfire last night.

"I'll go and get him then. You and Una can protect Warden Caron. Aegis will come with me in case of attack on my way." She whistled to the dog as she climbed back down the tree. "How are you Caron?"

"How do you know my name?" The Orlesian moaned.

"Able to speak." Una took a deep breath. "Go get that healer for sparklefingers here."

"You look like one of my recruits." The Orlesian smiled again.

"I'll be on my way. Aegis - to heel boy." Rose slapped her thigh and drew her bow out just in case as she broke into a run over the muddy terrain. Aegis barked at her as she pounded over one of the hills and came across a battle in progress, flames were thrown about like nothing at the will of Xavier and Llars was charging like an elf with a death wish at the hurlocks that were targeting both him and Kalder.

Daveth sidled up to her while firing his arrows and she was firing alongside him.

When the fight was over Warden Kalder approached her. "What can I do for you cloudhead?" He crossed his arms over his barrelled chest, obviously unhappy with her presence.

"No need to be so harsh Verrian." Xavier approached her. "What assistance could we be?"

"Warden Caron was injured against an emissary, we have kept her prone due to a spinal injury. If you could all follow me as she needs a healer?" Rose breathed before turning tail and running back toward where she'd left Una, Caron and Jory.

"Trust a sodding mage to get injured." Kalder growled as he followed. "Karen's always getting her arse handed to her."

"Karen Caron?" Xavier snorted behind her. "No wonder she never told us her given name."

"Warden Andras' given name is Yewen." Llars offered. "I don't understand the fixation on names you all have. Even in my clan I was known as Mahariel."

"Do you prefer that?" Rose asked. Just a short run... mostly uphill. Maker's teeth it wasn't right to be so hot.

"You care what I prefer shemlen?" Was the reply before they came upon Una giving the Orlesian a flask of red liquid.

"The Noble is just getting your healer. You hold on sparklefingers." She whispered. She looked panicked when she noticed the group that had followed Rose and a stoic mask fell over her face. "Good. You nug-humpers better make this one better. She's been delirious."

"What exactly happened?" Xavier rushed over and pulled a blue vial out from his purple sash, brushing some of the rust coloured hair that flopped over his forehead back as he glugged and grimaced. "Yuck." He spat a solid clump that he'd nearly swallowed on the floor.

"Warden Caron said all emissaries use blood magic... and she was lifted into the air, her back arching until it sort of snapped." Una replied. "Sod if I understand that."

"I can work with that. Thank you my dear." Xavier smiled before placing a hand either side of the Orlesian's head, an inch from her cropped grey hair. A blue glow erupted between his hands and he closed his eyes in concentration, the edge of his tongue sticking out of his lips and he grunted.

"Sacred Andraste!" Caron shot up from her position on her back as she was fully healed and she rubbed the itchiness under her skin through her Warden robes. "What are you doing here Verrian?"

"Saving your arse as per sodding usual Karen." Kalder snorted. "Get up then. We're gonna have to find Yewen and his group. We got the blood, we were just making our search for the tower start. Mage boy here was sketching the wilds when we got ambushed."

"Sodding good you did too. It was his flames that meant we found you salroka." Una shrugged.

"Yes. We should find Warden Andras while we're relatively safe." Warden Caron stood up and stretched out her mended back. Rose had never seen anything like it. This magic... she'd seen the emissary use it against them and the Orlesian against the darkspawn. She roughly knew that mages had powers she couldn't imagine like healing and flames from their hands but she'd not even imagined the strength of it.

* * *

Rose and Daveth kept beside the two mages in battle due to being ranged fighters. So she saw and felt the heat from the flames Xavier could cast and the chill of the ice. And when one of those sharlocks - the common name of shriek was a good one - had gambolled up to them having slipped past the melee fighters she felt first-hand what healing magic felt like. It was - great.

Llars and Kalder were fierce fighters up front with their two handed weapons, she saw the elf getting sicker as time passed but he soldiered on as if nothing was affecting him despite how she saw how his tan skin was clamming up with sweat and turning ashen, his lips becoming blue.

Una and Jory were more conservative fighters despite the anger that Una had when she was bashing in heads. "Yewen's been here. See these slashes - that's him alright." Kalder kicked a spindly looking darkspawn that looked like a mutilated version of an emissary.

"So he should be ahead no?" The Orlesian pursed her lips. "I told you we were on the right track."

"Just keep your thoughts to yourself mage." Kalder put a bloody hand up to his face. "Look here - I dunno if this is my blood but I'm still standing."

"Do not start this old argument Verrian." The Orlesian threatened. "I shall be forced to test dwarven magic resistance."

"Magic ain't impressive you old bint." He snorted before getting a zap of lightning and snorting again. "See - you're no magister overlord. Come on."

"I hate him so much." The Orlesian glowered as she moved back behind to walk beside Rose. She wasn't sure, but she thought she was feeling some sort of empathy toward her. Rose shook her head. Just because they were on the same side of the dwarf's good and bad side did not mean they were on the same side. They trudged down a hill where there were no corpses into a circle of logs.

"Could we sit a moment durgen'len? I find myself... weakening." Llars flopped down onto a log and placed his greatsword lovingly over his lap.

"Get your knife-eared arse up." Kalder growled kicking the log. Llars was pushed off backwards and the log spilt open, items spilling out.

"That's a Chasind cache!" Daveth's eyes widened. "Look at that gorgeous bow!"

"Kalder you cruel bastard!" The Orlesian screeched, running round to where Llars was on the floor. "He's been knocked out."

Xavier rushed round and pushed up his sleeves, conjuring up those blue glows around the elf with his hands. "He's too sick. You need to give him your cure for this sickness now! I can't heal him!"

"Take the elf back to camp to the Commander" Kalder snorted. "Daveth, Una, Karen, Jory - you can all take him with that other mage."

"You mean to take just Rose and her dog into the Wilds? No magical back-up?" Xavier growled. "I think you're a complete bastard Kalder. I'm not standing for this."

"Hold your tits skirt boy. I can sense Yewen from here. We won't be on our own for long." Kalder stretched out his fingers. "Karen - you take them all back with the blood we all got." The Orlesian mage scowled at the dwarf before calling Una and Jory to carry Llars with Xavier and Daveth as fighters alongside herself.

Rose reached down to the Chasind cache and picked up a winged helmet that was reminiscent of the wings on the back of Duncan's riding jacket. It fit over her plaits on her head perfectly and she did the buckle up under her chin. It felt... like it had always been hers. Out of the comment Daveth made, she picked up the bow. He'd like it. She'd always given little gifts to people, Roland... her family. She'd keep up that habit. It was a good one and she remembered fondly the look on her father's face when she'd given him some lumpy knitted socks one Feastday. They were yellow wool and his favourite. She shook her head and the helmet didn't even shift.

It was a good helmet. She placed the Chasind bow upon her back and kept her yew hunting bow in her hands.

* * *

Rose, Aegis and Warden Kalder weren't far from Yewen Andras' group actually. What the dwarf had failed to mention though was the fact that the group was in the middle of a battle with more darkspawn. Rose grabbed a handful of her arrows she'd used multiple times today. A lot of them would need re-fletching or else they'd break.

A lot of them had broken actually. She was getting low on arrows even after Daveth had given her what he had saying 'I can use me daggers dove'. She'd wanted to give him another kick in the gnads for that but she need the arrows.

She grasped her arrows and fired two at a time, aiming for darkspawn heads while Aegis and Kalder charged into the fray.

Daniel was a force of nature on the battlefield. The darkspawn were exploding left, right and centre at his will and more were thrown about like ragdolls should they get close to the elven mage. His white hair whipped around him as he threw his power through his staff, the wooden pole moving in ever more erratic patterns in the air.

Cari herself was a fearsome thing. Rose saw her jump atop a helmeted hurlock, rip the helmet of and skewer her daggers through it's head before it slumped and she deftly jumped off, her serrated daggers glistening with black blood and gristle.

Lindra was a rogue borne for the shadows. She would almost creep up on whatever target she picked before she flicked her wrists and her daggers popped out and slipped into a weak points in armour then she'd slip back into a shadow like she'd never been there. The only sign she'd even done anything being a _shhing_ of metal and a corpse on the floor.

Yewen was just like Lindra, his daggers making efficient and deadly cuts as the elf flitted around the battlefield. The only exception Rose could see was the poison that had gleamed on Lindra's daggers. Yewen had more strength too, the daggers being almost like extensions of his arms as he powered around in the blind spots rather than shadowed.

The warrior of the group, Alistair was another powerful fighter, his shield keeping the majority of blows off him and his sword being an efficient means of ending the darkspawn. Rose loosed an arrow at the spindly sharlock creeping up on the warrior and the pointed eared darkspawn fell with the singular projectile. Inwardly Rose cheered about the shot. It had been a fairly good one.

But battle seemed over. Kalder strode up to her and the pommel of his maul slammed into her tricep. "Fucking Void!" She screamed and she kicked out at the dwarf, catching him on the armoured shin. "What was that for?"

"Holding the poxing arrows with your wrist facing outwards. You want your shoulder dislocated I'll teach you what it feels like."

"That was harsh Verrian." Warden Andras sheathed his daggers at his slim hips and shook his head. "Felas falon, he's just a grumpy durgen'len." He spoke to her. The Dalish elf seemed a lot friendlier than Llars. That could be false friendliness though. Rose was cautious of people who weren't open. She had liked Llars because he was open with the fact he didn't like her. She didn't like Kalder because his hate went as far as hitting her bloody arm and jerking her shoulder.

"Stop speaking in that sodding flowery language!" Kalder growled. "You got your blood?"

"I have in fact." Warden Andras rolled his eyes. "Come on. We think to have found the tower." He gestured through the muggy air to a ruinous grouping of stone covered in vines.

"That crumbling piece of shit?" He shook his head. "Can't be. For your vanity we'll check it out."

* * *

It was actually the Warden tower. Alistair, Andras and begrudgingly Kalder had confirmed it. The ripped sun-bleached navy banner under some rubble was definitely Warden colours and heraldry.

"Get digging then. There's some treaties here and the Commander wanted them." Kalder ordered. Warden Andras scowled at him.

"I happen to be more senior to you Verrian." He clenched his jaw.

"I've been a Warden longer. Move it elf before I tear this place apart." Kalder growled. Andras and Kalder stayed a moment just glaring at each other when Rose noticed a fluttering of a raven in her peripheral vision.

"Maker's breath. If any of you get along I'll eat my boots!" Alistair snorted. "Oh - how did you find Karen Caron?" He asked Rose. She shrugged. She found her Orlesian and surprisingly not as horrid as she'd previously though. A bit of a taskmaster while she'd led the group but she'd never admit to even vaguely feeling like she was siding with Karen Caron. She found herself preferring her over Verrian Kalder though.

"Well, well, well - what have we here?" Rose's attention was drawn from the brewing argument between elf and dwarf to a woman slowly sauntering on the rubble, long patchwork leather skirt squeaking ever so slightly as she moved. Her gaze travelled up her to the purple rags she had around her torso, tied tight with leather laces into a blouse of some sort that dipped low on her chest.

It was her eyes though. Yellow eyes that pierced into her very soul. This woman's gaze drifted lazily over each of them, doing what she normally did and evaluated each of them in turn.

"You numbered greater when you entered these wilds of mine." She stated as she leaned against a half a pillar.

"You wilds? And what would that make you Chasind?" Warden Andras narrowed his eyes at the woman.

"They are mine in a way." The woman shrugged. "But I am more curious over your purpose here rather than number. You have slaughtered darkspawn in your wake and trapezed into a tower long taken by the wilds themselves. So I pose a question. Are you scavengers coming to claim the nothing that resides here or merely intruders into these wilds, coming upon this place upon accident?"

"I'd say we're Grey Wardens my fair lady but I'm only a recruit." Daniel answered her. That almost sounded like he'd taken a leaf out of Xavier's book for how he spoke. Rose saw the way his pale skin was slightly flushed about the cheeks.

"Grey Wardens!" The woman smiled and it looked incredibly unnatural. "And what would they wish from this crumbling structure?"

"We shouldn't speak to her. As... our commanding officer said... she has to be Chasind and that means more'll be nearby." Alistair shifted on his spot and looked incredibly awkward.

"Oh? So you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" The woman grinned wildly, almost feral and Daniel seemed to enjoy that when it was directed at Alistair.

"Swooping... is _bad_." He laughed to himself.

Rose sighed and moved forward. "We're here for some treaties of support. Seeing as all the men here seem incapable of proper speech or civil words to each other I'll do the talking." She shook her head and took a deep breath. "You seem savvy to these wilds. Have you known of anyone to take these treaties? I would hate for our search of them to be fruitless."

The woman looked taken aback for a moment. As if she'd been playing a game of sorts and had been enjoying it until Rose had stopped it. She smiled though. "A woman that gets straight to the point of the matter. I shouldn't know what you speak of. I can't very well trust what you say without first knowing your name can I?"

Rose understood. This woman knew something but the ball was very much in her court. She'd have to play this game of hers to get what they needed. It wasn't unlike the game of playing a polite face amongst vassals. Her manners drilled into her returned like a wave into her consciousness and she straightened out her back. "My name is Rose and it is a pleasure to meet you. If I may know your name also?"

"What a civil greeting in these foetid wilds. It is true that is it a pleasure to meet me. My name is Morrigan." Her eyes did not betray the tone of shocked incredulity at her manners in this Morrigan's voice but Rose smiled. This was the sort of thing she could do like breathing.

"So these treaties?" She pushed.

"Ah! But of course!" She got off from her leaning on the pillar and moved to stand next to Cari. "You have not spoken dwarf?"

"I detest the machinations of politeness to those who appear too conveniently." Cari stiffened. "Perhaps you'd find my elven companion here a better source of talk?" Rose rolled her eyes. This woman was planning on drawing out this conversation.

"But there are three elves present! A female, male and a very handsome one with striking white hair." Rose groaned. That was painful to hear. Daniel had actually got completely pink up to his hairline and the colouring was odd on such a pale person.

"I don't mean to hurry you Morrigan but these treaties are of importance to us." Rose managed to grind out between her teeth.

"Oh how silly of me!" She giggled and it sounded incredibly false. This was like speaking to a noble. Only worse. "My mother has them!"

"Your mother?" Lindra blurted before she slapped a hand over her face.

"Why yes! Did you think I birthed from a log perhaps?" She drawled in obvious annoyance. Rose was finding it more and more difficult to continue this game the woman was playing.

"Well I dunno about swamp witches but you most probably did." Warden Kalder barked a laugh. "How many a you could see this fool woman is a witch?"

"Do not call me a fool you presumptuous dwarf!" Morrigan rushed from where she had been and was almost instantly towering over the dwarven Warden. "I could test the dwarven magic resistance quite easily."

"Not with a templar here." Rose whipped her gaze over to Alistair and saw briefly that Daniel was glowering at him. So this blond warrior was a templar? That would explain why Daniel didn't care for him.

"Ha! As if you Chantry slaves give me any pause!" She laughed.

"Morrigan. If you know where these treaties are I shall volunteer to follow you and retrieve them." Rose took in a deep breath and looked pointedly at the group. "If this animosity increases I will put an arrow through all your heads."

"You - now you I like." Morrigan smiled again and Rose winced at the awkwardness and unnatural way it looked. "Follow me if you will. I can take you to my mother."

"I'd be careful you know. First it's 'I like you' and the -_zaaap_- frog time." Alistair lowered his voice to mutter aside to her. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Mages can't go that." Daniel sighed. "Honestly templar!"

* * *

Cari, Lindra and Warden Kalder had refused to follow. The dwarven Warden saying something about 'surfacers and death wishes'. Rose couldn't care less about what he thought. He wasn't a good person from what she'd seen. Warden Andras had been intrigued as to whether this was a walk into death and so offered to join her.

Alistair begrudgingly joined them and Daniel didn't want to be around Kalder.

"Mother! I bring before you four Grey Wardens who-" Morrigan was cut off when an elderly looking woman hobbled out of a hut that looked like it had gotten stuck in the mud long ago before the woman had decided to just let it stay there. What an odd thought.

"I can see them girl. Not what I was expecting though."

"Are we to believe you were expecting us?" Alistair glared. Rose shook her head. Why couldn't people let her use the skills she had at talking to actually talk before they tried to mess things up?

"That doesn't matter. I was lead to believe you have some treaties that would be of use to us Grey Wardens?" Because she wasn't going to explain that actually she and Daniel were only recruits.

"Indeed I-" The woman was cut off.

"You stole them didn't you. You're some sort of sneaky witch-thief!" Rose grit her teeth together and took in a deep shuddering breath. Alistair was going to get on her nerves. She'd barely met him and he hadn't left a good impression.

"I protected these for you. You will need them in the trying times ahead." The woman passed over three bound scrolls tied with twine that she'd looped into something that could hang from a wrist. Rose gratefully took them.

"You protected them?" Alistair actually sounded apologetic.

"Thank you. You've been very kind." Rose nodded to the woman respectfully. They could now get back to Duncan and get on with whatever they were supposed to be doing.

"Such manners! And in the last place you'd think to find them! Much like stockings." She furrowed her wrinkled brow and Rose pursed her lips. This woman wasn't frail like she appeared. There was something she was hiding from them. Not that she was going to voice concerns over it with the treaties looped to her wrist. She'd never have to see these women again. It didn't matter.

"Yes mother - much like stockings." Morrigan let out a long suffering sigh.

"Morrigan - if you would escort these guests of ours back to where you have found them?" Her mother asked in a 'sweet old lady' voice that gave Rose the chills down her spine. She was feeling glad that she wouldn't be meeting this woman again. There was something off about her.

* * *

Warden Kalder had been shocked that they'd returned. Warden Andras had smirked at him about following intuition and the dwarf responded with a growl. Some people would always hate each other Rose thought.

As long as there were people who openly hated each other. They had each other's backs in battle though and that was all that mattered. It wasn't of much consequence that they gave her a headache all the while they talked. They were allied against the darkspawn.

Morrigan bid them farewell at the ruined tower and Rose hadn't expected much more than a walking until they were out of her mother's sight.

They returned to the Ostagar encampment and Rose stared in disbelief at the person standing by the quartermaster.


	5. War

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: M for death and there's some language. May contain spoilers for the Dragon Age novels. You have been warned.

* * *

Rose hurried over to the quartermaster, Aegis at her heels and barking at the sudden moving. "Gavin!" She yelled at the top of her lungs to grab his attention and her brother's second turned around to face her.

"Milady!" His face broke into a wide smile and Rose ran into his arms, not caring over what people might think from the embrace. "When you left for the attack on the castle..." He breathed through the tight hug.

"Where's my brother? I must speak with him. Where are the rest of the men?" She let go of him and saw Cari had followed her and was arching her non-scarred eyebrow at the events.

"Milady... I don't know how to say this..." Ser Gavin took in a deep breath. "Two nights ago he and his horse were missing. A note left saying that he was returning to the castle because you and the Grey Warden hadn't returned. He had been so worried over everything. He told us to continue to Ostagar but there were a few problems without someone to lead us."

"Maker's teeth!" Rose's right hand curled into a fist. "Did no-one follow?"

"We didn't know where he was precisely. What happened in the castle milady, if it's not to impertinent to ask?" Rose looked down at the ground and tried not to let the emotions overwhelm her. She hadn't wanted to tell her brother, she hadn't wanted to think about how she'd failed his trust that he'd so readily placed it her that week ago.

"A viper in our midst." She finally ground out. "Howe's men weren't delayed. He turned them to Highever when we'd left and slaughtered everyone inside."

"No!" His eyes widened and he pulled her back into his arms. "I shall rally the men and turn them back. Why would your father's friend do this?"

"I have no idea." She leaned her head on his shoulder then quickly jumped out of his arms as if bitten, she was not showing weakness to her brother's second. "Do not turn the men back though. I have encountered the darkspawn and we need the skills of the Highever men. The Amaranthine forces will likely still be there and I will not see more men lost to this. The forces still there had been taken quickly and I saw many of them. The King gave his word that his armies will turn north when the darkspawn have been routed and his number is greater."

"But... your brother-" Rose cut him off.

"I can hope he still lives." She clenched her jaw. "But I must think on this logically. We haven't the men to successfully retake the lands. Our chances would be too small and I will not order the men to die for this. Do not speak of this to the other men, we need morale against the darkspawn. In the next battle I will ask to lead our men."

"As you say milady." He nodded and took a deep breath. "I will make sure the men are well prepared for the next battle here."

"Surface nobles don't have it half as bad as us." Cari spoke when Gavin was gone and Rose dropped her gaze to the aforementioned princess.

"I had wondered why royalty would be amongst the recruits here." She answered. She was not going to let anger cloud her. She was a Maker damned Cousland and it was high time she acted it.

"Dwarven politics means keeping a dagger in your hand and a poisoned chalice of wine in the other." Cari drawled. "I daresay you understand that u here too?"

"I do." She narrowed her gaze. Was this woman another victim of politics that sought her end? "So you are indeed a princess?"

"I am. Not that any cloudhead here gives two nugs over it." She shrugged. "I was also the Commander of the dwarven armies."

"A high position." She stated.

"A higher one to fall from." Cari responded in turn. "The others are returning to the Commander though. I would think we best join them."

Rose mulled over the new information she had as she walked to Duncan. Her brother was missing, left his men.

Cari had been a commander. "Are you to be present later in the strategy meeting here? I would think you know how to proper place men against the darkspawn." She commented as they walked.

"Your King requested it. Yes." Cari sniffed. "Whether he listens is another story. I plan on using you seeing as I bet that a noble like yourself will be there too in order to make him see if the strategies planned are weak."

"I won't be used." Rose muttered.

"We all are. A game was brought into Orzammar a few years ago. Chess you call it. Think of everyone as a pawn. There are no kings and queens, no clerics, knights or castles. If you and the men that will follow you will allow it you should all be used as is fit." Then Cari was silent and Rose thought on it.

It was true. She'd have to just remember that. There are no kings and queens. All people are equals as pawns. It was frighteningly callous point of view but it was true.

* * *

"Our two sodding nobles return!" Warden Kalder announced as Cari and Rose came to the bonfire that Duncan had erected. "We can get this Joining Ritual underway then."

"Joining Ritual? I had thought that our test was in the wilds?" Rose questioned.

"In part." Duncan responded. "If you could all follow me however. The true test to become Grey Wardens begins now."

Rose stiffened as she walked with the other recruits. This was highly ominous. Duncan called Xavier, Warden Caron and Daniel forth when they were at a secluded ruined temple (if she was thinking correctly the weathered bust was of the Tevine God Toth - God of fire) he asked them to perform a spell on some reagents that were part of this Joining and Rose thought back on what she had thought when she'd learnt that Llars needed to become a Grey Warden in order to be cured of his sickness.

This Joining Ritual changed something about the person. That much was readily true. Duncan dismissed the three mages and turned to the group, a silver chalice in his hands. "At the precipice of the First Blight against the Archdemon Dumat the first Grey Wardens took a sacrifice readily to see the end of it, taking into themselves the darkspawn taint and so mastering it. Now we stand at the start of the Fifth Blight against the Archdemon Urthemiel and I bring you all to take that sacrifice also."

He looked about them all and Rose straightened out. This was part of the test she was sure. Do not show weakness. "Alistair, if you would recite the Grey Warden Oath?"

The templar bowed his head and his voice echoed lightly in the temple as he spoke. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

Rose felt a bead of sweat race down her spine. The Grey Wardens believed in themselves, believed in this calling. The books she'd read on the Grey Wardens and the stories she'd been told by Nan... they all spoke of these warriors, legends among men who defeated evil at all costs. They'd been known to do terrible things for that goal.

Their duty could not be forsworn. "In War, Victory." Warden Kalder barked.

"In Peace, Vigilance." Warden Andras continued in his lyrical accent.

"In Death, Sacrifice." Warden Caron finished, bowing her head so her thin braid fell over her shoulder. "Maker guide you recruits."

"Llars Mahariel of the Sabrae Clan of Dalish Elves." Duncan started and moved deftly to the rasping form of the elf on a stretcher that Jory and Una had carried in. He lifted the elf carefully around the shoulders and tipped the chalice into his parted mouth. He put the chalice down to the floor and closed the elf's mouth and rubbed down his throat for him to swallow.

A few seconds later Rose watched wide-eyed as the Dalish elf started to convulse and Duncan stepped away, his face grim as his eyes shot open, the milky grey now a blank white. The elf screamed before slumping back as if dead, the only sign he was still alive being the rasps of his breath.

His skin was gaining more colour though. These Grey Wardens had cured the elf with this Joining Ritual. "He lives and is a Grey Warden. Una Brosca of Dust Town. Step forward."

"If I die I don't wanna be sent back to Orzammar. They'll spit on me." The dwarven warrior glared as she was passed the chalice. Rose was trying to think as to why the dwarves would spit on her when Una passed the chalice back to Duncan.

She stood stoic a moment before she heaved forward onto her knees and she saw the dwarf fight and sweat to remain upright. Eventually she blinked a few times, her eyes gone as white as Llars' had before straightening up. "Nothing to it nug-humpers." She drawled lazily before shakily moving over to where the current Wardens were standing.

"Never seen that happen before." Kalder commented. "Knew I picked good with you."

"Salroka - I'm made of stone." She responded with before Duncan pursed his lips at the two dwarves.

"Daveth Cooper of Denerim. Step forward." The fellow archer swaggered up and took the chalice almost without a second thought. Rose couldn't help but think on what he'd saw when she gave him the Chasind bow. He'd called it gorgeous.

He took a sip of the liquid within the chalice and passed it back as easily as Una had before he dropped with a crack on the stone flooring to his knees. His hands sought his throat and his breath was coming out a fast pants and gasps the more he was there until he slumped forward with another crack on the stone. "I am sorry Daveth." Duncan closed his eyes. "Sometimes fate decrees that we pay the sacrifice now rather than later. Warden Kalder... see to him please."

The bald dwarf stepped up and lifted the corpse of the man easily onto his shoulders and placed him on a low pyre. How had she not noticed it before? They could die... this Joining Ritual was deadly. "Ser Jory Angus of Highever. Step forward."

Rose was immediately drawn away from the starting of a funeral pyre when she heard the scrape of metal from the knight. "No. I would not have joined had I known. I have a wife! A child on the way! This isn't fair!" He went to strike out with his greatsword when Duncan had already put the chalice down on his stone table and had drawn his daggers to deflect the heavy sword away.

The Commander moved with an efficient skill and his main hand dagger was twisting up through a thinner part of Jory's chainmail and Rose continued to watch with morbid interest as Duncan held the dying man as he slumped into him. The man was dead and he hefted him up with the help of a silent Yewen to place him next to Daveth on the starting flames of the pyre.

"Enchanter Xavier Amell of Kinloch Hold. Step forward." Duncan returned to his table, his hands still bloody with the lifeblood of the knight when he passed the chalice to the blue and purple clad mage. Said mage looked thoughtfully at the two bodies on the pyre and the two people that had already survived.

"Burn me if I die." He said solemnly. "No Chantry words but burn me." Then he tipped a mouthful from the large chalice into his mouth and passed it back.

The mage started onto the floor with a crumpling of the linen robes. His leather satchel hitting on the stone with a crack more than he did. Duncan knelt down to the mage and put two fingers under his chin. "He lives. Warden Caron chose well. Daniel Surana also of Kinloch Hold. Step forward."

The white haired elf stepped up almost nonplussed by it all and took the chalice. "Same here. No Chantry words." He spoke before taking a mouthful of the Joining Ritual fluids. He handed the chalice back shakily and Rose saw his hair almost fly up and the tingle of his magic filled the air as he bent double to breath.

Then the mage dropped and the tingle stopped with it. Warden Caron was the one who rushed forward to check his pulse and she smiled and nodded. "He lives too. I had worried."

"We all do." Duncan intoned as Warden Caron picked up the elf with remarkable ease and placed him next to his fellow mage and Llars where they were all still breathing and rasping heavily. "Rose Cousland of Highever. Step forward."

The odds were not in her favour. Rose took in a deep breath as she glanced toward the flames licking over Daveth and Jory. Would the knight have lived? Four others had so far. Four against two. That's a third of them gone. She briefly looked back at Cari and Lindra. One of them if the odds were like this. She held the chalice in her hands and the weight of it shocked her.

The weight of everything so far crashed down. The deaths in Highever, having Oren's hot blood on her fingers as she checked to see how long dead he was. The squeeze of her father's hand as he died. Her hands now were sticky with the blood of Jory still on the chalice and she glanced down at the red-black liquid. It smelt like the darkspawn blood they'd gathered and so corrupted. It was their blood. She would have to drink of this. It was the only chance of survival at this point.

Tentatively she lifted the chalice to her lips, her nose wrinkling at the rank smell that assaulted her nostrils. More potent that in the Wilds and she regretfully swallowed a single mouthful before thrusting the chalice out to the Commander. She needed that away from her.

She felt the burn of it as it slipped down her throat, the metallic tang of it clawing in her mouth and the ache settle into her very veins. She heaved for breath when that ache got to her lungs and she put her hands out reflexively to catch herself as the stone floor hurled toward her.

She was sure she was dying when she tried to open her eyes from the weight of it all and saw nothing but a roar of purple flame and felt the screaming around her. _I'm coming mother and father. I'm sorry I failed you._ Were the thoughts that filled her head as it slipped into blackness.

* * *

Rose shot up like a horse from a cramped stable. Where was she? Had she been dreaming? The cold stone beneath her told her no and she clicked a knot out of her neck and brushed dirt off her front where she'd fallen.

She was alive. That much was true. The taste of the blood in her mouth made her want to spit but spitting was such a disgusting habit. She did anyway but the disgusting flavour stayed. "Here girl. It takes the taste away." She looked up and saw Kalder with a wooden pipe in his hands, pale grey smoke almost merrily puffed from his mouth. She took it and inhaled.

He was right. It took that horrid taste away. She coughed a little as the smoke came back out of her lungs but took another inhale from the pipe and blew it out again. She'd had a rolled cigarette once with Gavin... when his wife was in labour. It was tradition that one of the Couslands was present whenever one of their troops was at a funeral or birth pertaining to them.

This tobacco was coarser but it really removed the taste of blood in her mouth. "Thanks Verrian." She muttered as she picked herself up properly.

"No sweat. Joining is horrible. Just don't let me catch you holding your arrows wrong again." He pointed to a patch of dirt on her hip and she brushed it off. "Everyone else already woke up. Thought you'd be one of those that lingered before dying."

"A vote of confidence for sure." She remarked before looking over at the smouldering pyre. The bodies had burnt down completely in the oil soaked wood. How many had died? "Did anyone else-"

"Nah. It ain't as lethal as you'd think. I reckon that Jory bloke would have survived too." He wiped a bit of blood off the end of his pipe where Rose had sucked to inhale the smoke before bringing it back to his mouth. "That or Duncan's losing his recruiting touch. Andras, me and Caron are all his recruiters and we're quite good. Only got two deaths under my belt."

"Where is everyone else?" She asked.

"Back in the tent. Princess is getting ready for that strategy meeting with your King too." He took another draw off his pipe. "Before you go. This is for you." With one hand he pulled a silver amulet on a leather string out of his pocket and handed to her. "It's called a Warden Oath. Has a drop of Archdemon blood in it. We all wear them to remind ourselves of the duty we take on. And those that fall in our Joinings and in battle."

Rose took the amulet and her fingers traced the red glass bead that was in the centre, it had a bubble of air at the top so the blood inside moved. She untied the leather string and put it on, the silver clanging with her golden locket. "Thank you. I thought you were all harsh and-"

"Don't let this change us Warden. We're equals now. You ain't a noble any more. Most a us drop the given name and go by surname but some just keep the given." He stiffened his posture. "You're supposed to be at that meeting anyway. Hop to it on the double Warden Cousland."

"Yes Ser." Rose roughly saluted the dwarf. He wasn't as bad as she'd thought. It was mainly a hatred of weakness that she'd seen. She resolved not to get on the bad side of him again.

* * *

Rose found her way with Cari and Duncan to the strategy meeting with the King. "Warden Caron has been tasked alongside Warden Andras and a fellow elf to him called Tamarel, to head to Orlais and get as many Wardens as possible against the Blight." Duncan spoke. "For the time being Warden Kalder will be your commanding officer when I can't give orders."

"I can't understand what the King wants with me there." Cari sniffled. "I did my strategy training with stone over my head. This sky gives me trouble."

"The sky is of no consequence, you have a battlefield and a certain amount of men against an enemy." Rose commented. This was unlike Cari from what she'd seen so far. Was she playing a role here to be out of the meeting? "You use them to best advantage."

"Exactly." Duncan agreed.

"Commander..." Rose pursed her lips. She had a question. "I sent Roland away before the Joining Ritual. If Jory had asked?"

"He was not conscripted, and neither was Roland. They were both free to leave until the secrets of our Order were revealed. In fact - all that survived were conscripted."

"I don't understand. My mother said you made a compelling argument and in the end I was conscripted." Rose shook out her shoulders.

"In truth - your father was the one who talked about your reading. Of how you talked your elder brother through strategies for Ostagar regarding your own troops. I said that he was almost asking for your conscription if he was going on and he made a comment about your poison skills. He... asked that Ser Gilmore would accompany you as a term of your conscription and I took it as what he wanted."

"Then I sent Roland away." She remarked. "I couldn't keep seeing him... I saw my family and everything. I needed to know about my brother. I saw the only option available to me."

"It was a sensible one. You lost that neediness when he went." Cari took in a deep breath.

* * *

King Calian was leaning over the war table, pushing miniature tin soldiers into line. "So the main army is here at the foot of the fortress heading toward the wilds. And the Gwaren troops will be over this ridge as a flank." He commented as he pointed to each grouping of soldiers on the map.

"Precisely. The Anvil and Hammer." Teryn Loghain was seated and watched as the three Grey Wardens entered the war meeting. He recognised two of them, the dwarf - he did not. But he'd met the Warden Commander many a time and had known Rose Cousland almost since she were out of swaddles. She and Anora had been close when growing up and when he'd left his daughter with his late wife. They were of the same mind as children and as adults from what he'd seen of the girl.

"The Anvil and Hammer." The young noble commented as she looked upon the table. "A good strategy so far. What have I missed as of yet?"

"Ah! Just the people I was waiting for!" Calian smiled warmly at the three Wardens. "Teryn Loghain, I'm sure you've met both Rose Cousland and Commander Duncan previously. May I introduce Cari Aeducan - the previous Commander of the dwarven armies." So that was the dwarf. A memory flashed in his mind, of meeting the King Endrin Aeducan long ago it seemed. "They're going to be helping us finalise the plans with the Warden forces."

"I cannot see how their - what... thirty men and women will prove much more effective than regular troops of people numbering the same." He commented, waiting for a reaction in the Wardens. He noted that neither of the women betrayed anything in their faces but the Commander's brow furrowed ever so slightly.

"The Highever forces too. They have arrived." Loghain nodded when the young Cousland picked up the representative tin soldier painted with Highever heraldry on the miniature shield on it's back from the pile of troops as of yet not arrived, as well as the miniature figures that represented the Wardens. "My brother did not number among them. He decided to turn back to Highever. I hope that you will keep your word your majesty and will see to it that Howe does not control Highever for much longer? If Fergus has been lost to this as well I have also chosen my heir."

Loghain started slightly at the information presented. Not enough for it to be of notice to anyone but he remembered a conversation that Rendon Howe had had with him a few months ago. That the Couslands were in league with the Orlesians. Could the man have taken the Terynir without first going to trial in the Landsmeet? It was a problematic thought. "I will Rose. Mark my words that snake will pay." Calian responded. "Will you take the reins of the Highever men in stead of your brother? I will need an officer to command each troop remotely in the heat of battle."

"I shall." She nodded. "Upon looking at this map however, I come to note this secondary ridge to the west of the battlefield. A fine place for the Highever archers to snipe seeing as most of our force is in archers. Say - the pincher strategy? Rather than placing one flank - have two. The Highever men will not number many but they will give cause that the darkspawn will not flee to the west." She placed the Highever tin soldier on the west ridge on the map as well as one of the Grey Warden ones.

"I agree with that." The dwarf commented. "Place a small group of Wardens in there too. In the wilds the darkspawn were more focused on the Grey Wardens. I should make the smaller flank seem more appealing and draw fire off the rest of the army."

"I had though to place the Grey Wardens in the main army." Calian picked up the last Warden tin soldier. "Front lines after the archers and mabari."

"This is sound, true." Loghain commented - he had been curious as to the skills Bryce had told him about that his children possessed, his younger child being the one who favoured strategies out of the two. The late Teryn said her favourite book on strategies had been the one about River Dane. "But if the Grey Wardens draw fire from the darkspawn you should place them as far from yourself as possible."

"You intend to take the main army?" Rose's eyebrows arched up. "Forgive my impetuousness my King but if the darkspawn decide to ignore the threat from the flanks they will target the leaders in any assault. You will be at most risk and to have the men protect you over concentrating on the battle at hand will be a reckless idea."

"The morale of the men would be greater if I were to lead the assault." Calian answered.

"Greater than the General of your armies which is seated merely a few feet from you? The Hero of River Dane would provide the same if not more morale to the men." She countered. Loghain was going to counter that the King would raise morale more than he. It obviously wasn't a good enough reason for Calian to be in the man army. That was why he decided to keep his mouth shut and see what the reactions were.

"Let's not speak of that for the moment Warden Cousland." Duncan drew the young noble away from the table and she narrowed her eyes at the Commander. Loghain quite agreed that they should not be pandering to the King so much. This was war - not war games. "If we assume that the forces are going to be as on the table - with the secondary flank of Highever men... what would be the signal given for these flanks? There is no clear way of signalling other than fire for these flanks to see from their positions."

"I thought on that!" Calian grinned. "The Tower of Ishal stands where all can see from the battlefield right?" He pointed to the Tevinter tower on the map. "I suggest we place a few trustworthy men - say some of your newest Wardens... to light the beacon once a signal is given from the battlefield?"

"You want to take soldiers out of the army and stick them in a tower?" The dwarf put her hands on the table and glared at the tin pieces. "Then we might as well take all our Wardens and leave. There is but twenty-seven of us - three of which will be off getting more of our forces. So only twenty-four on the field."

"Warden Aeducan, we will use what forces we have for the moment. It is not our place to disagree with the King." Duncan reeled back the second of his Wardens to disagree with something. What was the point of Calian asking these women here if not to present the holes here in strategy?

"I think the mages present would be able to light it." The mage that was commanding the pitiful seven, including himself, that the Knight-Commander had lent them spoke up. Wasn't his name Uldred? Loghain thought it a waste of resources to not have the mages sent in force. He'd seen their destructive and troop aiding abilities. It was squanderous to have placed them so low on the priority of needful forces.

"Save your spells for the darkspawn mage." The Revered Mother glared at him and Loghain was sure he glared at the woman. She did look just that little bit more cowed when she noticed his face.

"I say we put that three or four Wardens up there? One of which should number as a mage in case the darkspawn break into the fortress."

"My King, I remind you we only have seven mages including myself. To place one of us when called for elsewhere would be a waste of our capabilities. As it stands we only have one Spirit Healer here." Uldred was given a whack on the arm by the Chant of Light held by the Revered Mother and he stopped speaking.

"The Wardens have mages no?" Calian broke the tension. "Place one of the Warden mages alongside say Warden Aeducan - she would be able to signal the timing correctly even if the signal is not seen."

"That would give a better viewpoint for this signal and whether we're needed down below." Warden Aeducan said. "I don't think we should need more than three of us to light a beacon though. I'll take Wardens Surana and Alistair. I have fought beside both and feel they are trustworthy enough."

"The other Wardens will be placed amongst the main army." Duncan took one of the tin Wardens from Rose and placed it into the mess that was the lines of the main army. "The Junior Wardens however... They are fairly green. Warden Mahariel has just overcome an illness and might be better placed alongside Warden Aeducan."

"I could place the rest of us that are Juniors in the Highever ranks." Rose stated. "The troops that have arrived if memory serves well enough should number to thirty archers and fifteen sword and shield users as well as five greatsword users. To have the skills of the Junior Wardens alongside our frankly shortened numbers would improve the chances of our flank."

"Agreed. Wardens Brosca, Amell and Tabris would be well placed there." The Warden Commander agreed. "What shall the signal be for Warden Aeducan's party?"

"The Theirin banner being raised." The King responded. "Is this meeting done with to your satisfaction Teryn Loghain?"

"It has been... an eye opener your majesty." He responded.

"Excuse me!" All eyes turned to the scout running in. "Your majesty - the darkspawn have been spotted just over half a mile off and advancing. The army needs to move."

"It's a good thing we finished this up then." Calian grinned. "Let's be on with this!"

* * *

Rose rushed alongside Duncan and Cari to the recruit tent at a normal walking pace they had ten minutes to be ready. "Warden Kalder - with me! Wardens Mahariel, Surana and Alistair are with Warden Aeducan. Everyone else is with Warden Cousland. The darkspawn have been sighted and the armies are scrambling." Duncan commanded. There was a hurry of putting on of boots and grabbing weapons.

"What are the orders then Commander?" Warden Kalder asked as he strapped his maul onto his back.

"Warden Aeducan and her party are lighting the beacon at the Tower of Ishal for the east and west flanks to move in. Warden Cousland is commanding the Highever men in the west flank, Teryn Loghain in the east."

"You mean I'm not in battle?" Alistair groaned. Rose wanted to slap him. She really did. Did he relish the thought of seeing men he'd known die? Battle meant deaths. It was inevitable and she didn't want to see the men that had arrived today without her brother die now. The King had asked her to take Fergus' role in the leading of the Highever men so she would. As untried in proper battle she would.

"This is not the time." Duncan snapped. "Warden Aeducan knows the signal for the beacon being lit and if she sees the need of you down there she will lead you."

Rose was paying attention to the three other Wardens she was being put in charge of though. She ran past the quartermaster when Xavier, Lindra and Una were ready - grabbing two large quivers of arrows as she passed just as many other soldiers were. Aegis had come out of the tent with them and was at her heels in an instant. She hoped not to have to fall back to the use of her daggers. Many of the archers in the Highever ranks were able to use daggers though. If need arose she could ask of them to switch weaponry so she could use their arrows.

"Men!" She called into the assorted green a blue tents that had been staked in the army encampment. Many of them had already heard the commotion and most were battle ready. "The darkspawn are not far. We must file to the west ridge on the battlefield below and see an end to the darkspawn amassed. We are the western flank. Keep your eyes locked on the beacon at the top of the Tower of Ishal - that is our signal to lay waste. Today we show the darkspawn what we are made of in the north! Stout hearts men!"

There was a cheer throughout them as they started to follow her. Gavin carried up beside her, his shield already on his arm and his sword a seconds grab away on his hip sheath. "Inspiring words Milady. Did you know that there are three other people following you though?"

"Those people are Wardens Una, Xavier and Lindra and they are each fine fighters. They are here to bolster our number. Show each the respect you would show myself." She responded.

"Do you wish a horse?" He asked.

"If one is saddled as it is. I would also ask that Warden Xavier is given one too if that is he is a ranged fighter too." She glanced at the mage. "Can you ride?"

"Never tried dear." He admitted. "What better way to learn though."

"No horse. Anyone else able?" She questioned and Lindra took in a deep breath. "Warden Lindra will have one too."

"Yes Milady." Gavin nodded and started to run to the staked out horses that the Highever men were allotted to keep at the encampment.

"I didn't know you could ride." She commented as the two saddled horses were brought to them.

"My mother taught me blue-blood. In case the Orlesians took to return to Ferelden." Lindra responded, easily mounting the sable colt given her.

"Just to ride or how to fight others on horseback?" Rose questioned as she locked her feet into the stirrups. She didn't know either horses names and hoped they weren't temperamental ones. The darkspawn could easily scare a horse.

"Riding, how to fight on and how to fight others on." Lindra answered and she leaned into the horse and tested the reach she had while in saddle by flexing her left wrist and swiping the air as they moved.

"Your mother was a sensible woman then." She nodded.

"She had to be in the Night Elves." Was the response. Rose smiled. A woman trained by one of the Night Elves. You couldn't ask for someone better on your side. Aegis was bounding around Xavier's feet and barking.

"Quiet now boy. The darkspawn will be here soon enough." She gathered the men again once they got to the ridge and she could see the distant flames of torches from her horsed position. This was war. She put a hand back as signal for the men.

"When I raise my hand over my head the signal has been lit and we are to move over the ridge to fight. The archers will remain here with Warden Xavier as a healer. Warden Una will have basic control on the warriors present - if she says to attack a certain darkspawn you had better do as she commands. The archers will follow my lead. Warden Lindra is our primary scout in case the darkspawn near us before the signal she will give a raise of her hand and we will make a pre-emptive strike. Do you all understand?"

"Yes ma'am!" Gavin answered for the men after a brief pause.

"Then lets give them the Void men!"


	6. Starting

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: M for death oh yeah - you know war means death and very vulgar language and angsty stuff.

* * *

It was as if someone had started up the war drums the way her heart pounded with the anticipation. It was different to the frightened adrenaline that gripped her when her home was under attack or the nervous first fight with the darkspawn high in a tree. This was war and she was leading good people to their deaths. Rose gripped her thighs tighter to her horse and rocked with the natural sway of the horse, keeping her grip on her old yew bow. It had seen more use recently than ever before and would likely need a new pad for her fingers not to be shorn into.

That or a new bow. She still had her coin she'd packed so long ago it felt like. Almost a different life ago. She shook her head to retain focus. It did no good to lose focus in a battle. A split second could be the difference between life and death. She watched as the darkspawn drew nearer and the archers of the Ferelden army loosed their first volley of arrows, many darkspawn impaled or as walking pincushions depending on how vital the shot had been.

Then a shout was heard and the mabari were barking their way. No... there should have been more volleys of arrows! What was happening?

They couldn't have been that scrambled for the fight! Most people in Ostagar didn't walk around in civvies, most of them carried weapons on them at all times in case of surprise attack! There should be more volleys! Letting the mabari out meant friendly fire was possible from the archers and it wouldn't do to kill allies as staunch as a mabari. Aegis let a low menacing growl by the hooves of the horse and he startled away from the agitated mabari.

Rose patted the horse on the muscular neck. This was wrong. This wasn't the battle planned. The Anvil was acting more like the Hammer and it was as if their western flank was forgotten. "Shit on a stick." Lindra cursed under her breath. The elf could see the battle too. It was worrying to Rose when the mabari encountered the darkspawn and the dogs were quickly slaughtered by the crude weaponry... some of them managed to thin out the ranks... but it looked horrid.

The first splatters of rain hit her face as she watched the battle from her horse over the ridge. Curses. Rain would be disastrous. The mud was completely dried out. People would fall as soon as the sod got sticky and the battle would either favour them for the darkspawn falling first or they'd be slaughtered very effectively by darkspawn should they. It was going to be a test of who could stand the longest.

Alongside the rain there would also be the problem of blood. It would mix into the mud just as water would. Who would falter first?

"Darkspawn band - approximately twenty or so heavy coming straight at us!" Lindra called, urging her horse back to be beside Rose. Rose steeled her expression and called for simply the archers of her troops.

"Xavier - light up the arrowheads on my signal - we end this here so we're still fresh for the signal!" She twitched her hand over her head after her shout and there was a brief pause that seemed to last forever before the thirty or so arrows whizzed past her on fire, skewering into the twisted monsters approaching. The horse startled again. She had a bloody skittish horse. Lindra seemed to be coping fine on her colt.

She had a skittish horse. Rose dug her heels into the sides of the horse and quickly wiped a hand over the horse's mane. It calmed significantly and she hoped that the horse wouldn't require so much pandering in the midst of battle. She'd fallen from a horse once and it hadn't been pleasant. It was not an experience she wished to repeat in the heat of battle with enemies approaching. "Again men - we have stragglers!" There was another pause before more flaming arrows shot past her and ended the last of the darkspawn that had targeted the western flank.

So far. So good. She watched in abject horror as a kossith darkspawn tore over the battlefield, friend and foe of it laid waste to as it charged. It had horns almost like tree trunks, slobber thick falling from it's mouth and arms and legs that looked to be pure muscle. If that was one of those qunlock Warden Caron had mentioned. An Ogre? Maker's teeth it was just so big! There were easily seven... possibly eight or nine on the field.

She caught in the rainy distance a red flag with golden lion flutter boldly above the armies. Why couldn't that be the signal? She tore her gaze upward to the Tower of Ishal. Cari had better be ready to like the fuselage of the flue. The signal meant the flanks would need attack soon at least. "Wardens - keep your eyes on the battle. I have to wait for the signal." Rose called over the almost detached roar of battle taking place.

"I can't feel any friendly mage attacks. Just the blood magic of darkspawn mages!" Xavier called back. "Our mages must have been overwhelmed!"

"Stout hearts. We're here with you and you'll have to try and make up for it!" She called back. Maker's teeth - it must be slaughter on those front lines.

Where in the Void was that signal? _Come on Cari! You were a fucking commander of an army! You should know the importance of that signal!_ If they broke rank and started their charge now they'd be overwhelmed without the larger Gwaren flank to the east. They'd not given the darkspawn cause to attack other than the pincushioned ones that had broken toward them - possibly targeting the Grey Wardens here. "The darkspawn have mainly passed us!" Lindra called from her higher placing on her horse up the ridge. "It might be an idea to retrieve these arrows while we can."

"To it men!" Rose confirmed the order and four of the men that had been little more than squires a few months previous rushed through and started yanking arrows out and distributing them about.

She continued to watch the Tower of Ishal. This waiting was horrid. What she assumed were ogres were hurling rocks at the bridge leading up the tower until it had been completely destroyed. It would take a good rope and pulley system to get their four Wardens out of there now. That was a thought for later.

Time dragged while more battle happened and there was nothing they could do without proper signalling. _Come on Cari. What could be taking so long?_

Finally she saw the first flicker of flames light in the beacon atop the tower before the whole thing burst into flame proper. "That's our signal men! I want a minimum of twelve volleys before we charge our warriors. Keep back to healing Xavier - if you're the only mage here..." She trailed off as she pulled her horse up over the ridge and drew her bow into her left hand. She waited just that brief second as she took the scene in.

Corpses littered everywhere. It was impossible to tell soldiers from darkspawn in the rain, blood and mud that was soaking through everything. She let her hand drop and roared. "Fire men! Go!" She pulled back and picked an arrow from her quiver and notched it searching for the appropriate target amongst the horrid conditions.

Gotcha. She could feel it's corrupted presence almost in her veins. She drew the arrow back and with a satisfying twang against her cheek she let it fly, catching the genlock clean through the head. At the same time the other men had come up to the ridge in a line from her. Her pitifully small troops were letting their first volley of signalled battle loose.

Rose shouted for the second volley as she grabbed another arrow and sought more targets that she could finish with a singular arrow. There were plenty to chose from but it was a case of movement and catching one of the soldiers.

A burn erupted in her veins as she felt her heart gather with speed at the sight of one of those gigantic Ogres approach their flank. They'd only gotten to volley six. "At the big one!" Una shouted at the warriors. "We're going for him!"

The warriors and Aegis - Rose noted - charged. No fear in battle. It served no-one. The ogre picked up one of the unlucky Highever men and she saw it squeeze the very life out of him before attempting to chuck his corpse at Rose. Rose pushed the horse to move and it didn't need cajoling twice.

She looked briefly up to see only two other ogres were on the field now. An endless sea of darkspawn and friendly troop alike. More falling every minute but she wasn't sure which side were winning. Everything in her veins was screaming with the corruption and taint around her and she kicked her heels back to still the horse as she went to fire upon this ogre that had already killed at least one of her warriors.

She aimed for it's eye. Her arrow landed in the intended target but it did nothing but enrage the ogre. A mighty hand swept over the men that were hacking at the ogre and knocked a fair few off their feet dead. She whispered a brief prayer while firing furiously. She was going to run out of arrows within the next ten minutes at this rate. She had daggers but there wasn't going to be much hope of using them on this skittish horse.

They would have a proper funeral, each of them when she'd returned to Highever - her troop was down to three or four warriors from what she could see and she daren't look behind her to see if her archers were still going - there were arrows fired but much less than before. When this threat and Howe's was dealt with each man that lost their lives would be burnt as was proper, their widows and surviving children if they had any would be given the pension owed them for their losses. She was determined as she fired at the ogre with the other archers.

Rose noticed that her archers were dwindling more and more. Between shots she reached for a vial in her belt pouch, relying on her numb from rain fingers to feel the correct vial and she threw it with every ounce of strength she had at it's face.

The elongated tube exploded in a green drizzle over the Ogre's face and flames started to ignited over it's entire body. Their mage was still standing at least. The ogre was blinded though. She saw Una hack wildly at it's leg, thick black blood pouring over the dwarf, covering her from head to toe in the disgusting spume.

But the ogre was falling.

Then Lindra had abandoned her horse. She leapt with a refined grace through the heavy rain off the saddle from standing atop the horse at the ogre, her hands back as she staked into the muscular ogre chest.

She staked higher and higher, ignoring the arms of the ogre as the remaining archers fired at the flailing limbs until she wrapped her thin legs on it's neck and drove her daggers upward through the chin until they spouted through the nasal cavity.

The horse Rose was on bucked and she dropped her bow when she went to grab the reins to remain seated. The bow was stamped into the wet mud with a splinter and she lamented it's loss for a brief second before she noticed Lindra's horse coming at her.

She did it on instinct. She reached down one handedly and held her boot knife out at the horse.

At the same time she saw Gavin's sword thrust through it's neck and the horse was downed.

Her own horse bucked up and she had to drop her boot knife to cling desperately at the horse's neck. Skittish horse. Derek was a well trained one but he would have at least tried to keep his rider on. This one had no such training.

It took every iota of strength she had to remain on her horse until it's hooves connected with the floor again. She was in the middle of a darkspawn assault on a skittish horse with no bow and her troops falling. No usable weapon at the moment. Maker's teeth - the Maker Himself hated her.

Her gaze drifted over the battlefield and she saw a sight that chilled her to the core.

There was no eastern flank. The banners and flags and distant pikemen were even more distant - heading north.

A retreat had been called. There was no hope. "Wardens, Highever men!" She shouted. "We must retreat. Ostagar has been lost! We head north to Lothering to regroup with the Gwaren troops!"

Gavin lost his life that moment. A hurlock sword spouting from his back to his chest. His blood flew through the air and hit her on the chest. Maker's teeth - how many men were left? Lindra took revenge for the lost man but it didn't soothe any of the pain seeing him die right in front of her had brought up.

Una... she could see the blood-blackened dwarven figure still tearing swathes into the darkspawn.

Xavier... she could feel the tingle of his magic and the ice and strange barriers of energy he erected popping up over the field and himself.

Lindra... she saw the elf with her daggers out - almost jumping off a darkspawn when she'd made it a corpse to the next one. No pauses. She was so far away again. That elf was quick, like a shadow herself.

The Highever men... were lost. There wasn't a single one left. All... dead. This battle was over for the western flank.

"Wardens! I repeat! We retreat now!" She kicked hard back and the horse whinnied with a disgruntled yelp at the harsh treatment. First she grabbed the mage... she pulled him up over her lap until his belly was over her legs and she pulled the reins tighter.

The mage was still casting at enemies and he pulled another one of the blue potions off his sash, guzzling it down before continuing - pointing his staff like a ballistae sight - fire reigning from the end to where he directed it.

An arrow embedded in the back of her shoulder and she screamed. She would not go down now. The rain was slicking her hair over her face and she quickly wiped the wet tendrils back under her helmet before reaching out and grabbing Lindra by the scruff of her leather jerkin with her good shoulder, painfully keeping hold of the reins with the bad arm and hoisted the elf up over the back of the horse. Where this strength was coming from she didn't know. All she knew was that she needed to stay alive. She was going to make sure those that lived were going to stay that way.

She wouldn't be able to lift Una or Aegis up here. The dog was flagging but cautiously running alongside the horse. "Una! Run with us! Do something!" She yelled. _Listen dwarf!_

And then the blood-blackened dwarf was being hefted up onto the horse with the help of both Lindra and Xavier. She was nearly torn from her saddle but tightened her thighs more to the horse. _They were going to live dammit all!_

The horse protested and tried to buck but Rose held resolute through the pain tearing at her shoulder. Maker's teeth if this didn't get fixed she'd rip the arrow out now and hope not to bleed out. There was a shuffling of two bodies behind her and she was gripped tight around the middle but armoured arms. "Get a move on then salroka - I don't like being up here."

With Xavier still firing spells and Una leaning to the sides to swipe her greatsword out when a darkspawn approached. The four Grey Wardens left the battle and the dead. Maker save them all now. They were damned for having left their troops behind.

* * *

In between almost abusing the skittish horse to move and awkwardly manoeuvring herself on said horse to ride as best she could - Rose named it. She named it 'Skittish Prick'. It was apt and the only words that she spoke the entire time as the horse dodged darkspawn and rode like a hellion to the cover of the wilder trees.

The threat was mostly gone though. Once the burning feeling of corruption and taint had abated the adrenaline was gone completely - it left a worrisome numbness. She could feel her pulse around the still embedded arrow and the trickle of blood down her back. But there wasn't pain. Just this unbearable ache from it all. Ache in every muscle of her being and a horrid sore in her legs from the desperation to remain in the saddle.

Xavier and Una were the first two to dismount. The dwarf because she needed to feel the ground beneath her feet and the mage because he needed to throw up. When he did - it was a brilliant blue colour and Rose noted just how uneasy he looked on his feet. Lindra hopped off easily and shook out her legs.

Rose took a deep breath and dismounted - before the horse raced off. Maker's fucking teeth! "Skittish Prick!" She screamed at the horse... it was bleeding and had more arrows decorating itself than her but it was disastrous. Her voice was so hoarse from the yelling and ordering she'd done today. Tonight even - the stars were out.

"Hold still salroka - this'll only hurt a short while." Then pain caused Rose to scream again as she felt the arrow in her left shoulder get yanked out downwards. She felt the warm pulse of blood leave her and spurt down her back.

"Fucking wanker cunting... arsehole!" She collapsed onto the floor and the mage was up and drinking another blue potion. Shaking the whole while as he approached her.

"Never heard a noble swear like that!" She glowered at the dwarf that was twirling the arrow that had been in her shoulder. That had hurt more than the arrow going in. To be honest she was surprised she hadn't gotten more hurt in the battle but that wasn't the main concern she was having - it was the searing pain that was radiating from her shoulder.

"Y-you could have waited for me to p-put up a h-healing aura." Xavier stammered and she felt a warm eclipse her entire being, soothing every ache and searing pain until she felt nothing at all. "I... I'm all spent and that w-was my l-last l-l-l-lyrium-m potion." Xavier collapsed into the mud beside her.

"Mage boy is sleeping." Una rolled her eyes under her coating of black blood.

"Not... sl-sleeping. Knack-kered." Xavier moaned. Rose tested out her shoulder and reached round with her right hand. There was a dip in the shoulder that felt smooth and un-ripped. The Xavier had fixed it but there was a scar. She could handle that. One on her leg for her mother and one on her shoulder for the men of Highever.

"Are you two uninjured?" Rose remarked as she picked herself off the ground, willing herself not to itch her shoulder. She ached still but the pain in her shoulder was what had been hurting her most.

"Xavier healed us as you rode. He couldn't for you while you still had the arrow in your shoulder." Lindra reached back into her large pack that was on her shoulder. "I also have a few heath potions. I can drink and fight at the same time. Poisons and potions are half of what I do."

"That's the most you've spoken to me." Rose remarked. Other than a hello of sorts in the recruit tent and finding out that Lindra Tabris was trained by her mother that had been in the Night Elves - the girl had barely spoken to her.

"Don't like talking to blue-blood shems but you sort of saved my arse back there. I owe you a small courtesy." She shrugged. "We gonna keep moving or lay down and die here?"

The words struck deep on the ex-noble, current Warden. How was she still alive? Oren... poor Oren. What he'd seen before he'd met his end... Oriana. Her parents. She wouldn't cry in front of the other Wardens. She'd have to be strong.

She didn't have Darrien's book.

Rose fell to the floor again, ache just overwhelming her. She tucked her face into her knees and Aegis nuzzled a bloody nose into her cheek. "Hush now salroka - can't save everyone now. Those men died protecting this muddy land." She glanced upwards at the dwarf and wiped her cheek from the blood on it. That was surprisingly gentle.

"Is that a soft side to the woman of stone?" She grinned. She relied on her horrid sense of humour. There was nothing else she could do now other than put on a brave face and make a stupid crack like that. Nothing at all.

"Whelp - we had better get to this Lothering like you called for us. This leader of the Gwaren troops had better be a sort to take on us four nomadic Grey Wardens." Una scrunched one cheek up in a lopsided grin. "Who gets the joy of carrying the sleeping mage?"

"Teryn Loghain should be accomodating." Rose nodded. "I'll hold Xavier's right side up if Lindra could get onto his right to prop him up?"

They woke Xavier gently. He was delirious in a way from whatever he'd been drinking. Those blue potions were what kept his power up but they must mess with something. Possibly like too many stamina potions. They could mess a person up and make them hyper then crash into sleep without any trouble. They couldn't stay here though. Lothering would be the best place to regroup. Despite proximity to Ostagar it should be far enough with the woods to give them pause enough.

Maker's teeth his satchel almost weighed as much as he did! Did the man carry rocks with him? Rose lifted the satchel off the man and passed it over to Una before Lindra and herself hoisted the sleepy mage up over her shoulders and half carried him in the rain through the trees.

Lothering was north. They'd been on the west of the battlefield and Ostagar was south to them. They just had to go forward and hope no darkspawn approached them. Aegis plodded morosely behind his mistress and she closed her eyes, remembering the last time she'd carried anyone they'd died shortly after.

_Papa. I wish you were here. _Rose thought. She was all alone now. She could assume the worst and that everyone at Ostagar was dead. King - Wardens and soldiers alike. Or she could hope for stragglers like herself who'd fled upon seeing the Hero of River Dane retreat and their comrades beside them fall.

What was a now ex-noble with three other Grey Wardens and a mabari supposed to do? She pushed up her helmet so she could see properly as the sweat on her head had tamped her hair some. The sky was pitch black and dotted with stars.

She was hoping for a miracle when she heard a horrid squalling overhead and saw a black shadow like a giant bird move against the night sky. She hurried them all up. They weren't going to be giant bird food while she had even the tiniest bit of breath in her lungs. they were going to survive.

* * *

Rose near on collapsed when the reached the outskirts of Lothering. The sun was beginning to break through the heavy clouds and already it was hot again. She cursed the hot weather. Solace should be ending soon. She glanced wearily over the village, no sight on any army but they'd travelled slow with Xavier weighing them down. It was better when he stopped shaking so much but he was wearier than all of the others.

"No army here." Una grunted. "Sodding shards... just a village looking shit scared."

"I don't envy any of the people here." Lindra almost whispered, her eyes drooping. They'd all been awake so long. A two hour walk had become a full night. "They'll have to go elsewhere. I doubt the darkspawn will stay in Ostagar."

"Both sides suffered heavy losses. I'd hope we've given them a bit of pause." Rose commented. "But we need a plan of some sort." She shifted Xavier on her shoulder a bit, taking more of the weight of the mage off of Lindra. The elf looked more shattered than her.

"Duster's don't make plans - they live in the moment and hope it ain't gonna be their last." Una shrugged.

"We're Grey Wardens now right? Aren't we supposed to fight darkspawn and raise some allies or something?" Lindra drawled. Rose hmm'ed.

"I'd prefer to think on where we'll get allies." She straightened up as much as possible with the mage still heavy on her shoulders. "I'll be thinking but we need to find somewhere... somewhere to rest and think logically."

"I think we should get the mages! They'll all fight darkspawn!" Xavier groaned. Rose nodded her head and they started to move again. That was a good start to a plan. But would they be able to have a group of mages following them about? Or any sort of army at all? They didn't have the money to feed an army, they didn't have bedrolls or tents or food on themselves.

"First things first. Food, tents, bedrolls and I need a bow. We'll also need hygiene items and other stuff for maintaining weapons and armour. Lothering is a bustling trade point thanks to Bann Ceorlic, his land is just into the Gwaren passage and he... Maker's teeth I'm so tired... he keeps the trade route clear from Gwaren to here." Rose huffed out a breath. They needed to rest.

"Didn't need the info but that's interesting." Lindra replied. "Shit... let's just get to those tents over there. I'll grab some crates... and... fuck. Why is this bastard so heavy?"

* * *

Una was left with Xavier on some broken up crates while Lindra and Rose carried on into the village proper. They were both tired but Lothering wouldn't be used to dwarves. The fact that they had a mage with them too... it wasn't going to be easy to be in places with a lot of people. Aegis was ordered to stay with the mage and dwarf for the same reason. Fereldens may like mabari but not too many had them.

And in her current state - Rose couldn't see herself restraining the troublesome mutt if he decided to go after chickens.

"This market... is getting bought out." Lindra stood stock still just watching it. "Fucking Void shem - people are selling their furniture."

Rose felt for her coin purse in her pack and clutched it tight. "Gold talks. I'll make sure we have what we need."

* * *

Lindra... really didn't know how the blue-blood did it. But she got them tents, basic cooking equipment, bedrolls, dried food enough to get them to Denerim and back, soaps, a new bow for herself and a full stock of arrows for her two quivers, she got them vinegar and oil for cleaning metal and leather.

The blue-blood barely broke a sovereign for the whole lot and Lindra hadn't even seen a sovereign before that could have been in her possession. She'd seen others use them, seen others say they had them.

She'd never held one herself. The blue-blood held the lot of their tents in a canvas bag, the poles jutting high like pikes, the bedrolls she had rolled up and on her back and tied round her middle and shoulders. The pots and skillets clanged tied to the bedrolls and she passed over the canvas bag with the food, soaps and everything else to her. Lindra hefted the bag up over her shoulder and the two made their way back to Una and Xavier.

She glanced up at the blue-blood. Her face was impassive, sweat beading on her forehead, dark circles under her eyes. She'd never met one of the blue-bloods that was like this either. She carried more of Xavier's weight and more of the items she'd bought... there was something odd about this noble. Lindra had a burning desire to figure out exactly what. What made this one the way she was? What made Rose not treat her like a glorified slave?

Was it some power play that this blue-blood played? Make her trust and then the real side of her would come out? She'd be ready. "You said your mother was in the Night Elves..."

Huh? How did blue-blood remember that? "She was." Lindra strained to look in the distance at their resident dwarf and mage. The dog was curled up to the mage and licking his face.

"And she taught you how to fight with those daggers." Lindra could feel her daggers in their leather sheaths pressed into her forearms, the metal releases that she could snap her wrists and the daggers would _shhing_ out, another snap and they'd be back. If this shem wanted her to stop carrying weapons like the Denerim guards she'd... remind her of the darkspawn.

"Of course." Lindra hefted the bag on her shoulder with a jog.

"Would you... teach me how to actually stay on my feet and use daggers?" Lindra turned her head slowly and properly looked at the shem blue-blood. _She wanted to be taught by an elf?_

"Don't play your games with me. I'd prefer not to have your laughing." Then the blue-blood had the decency to look ashamed. Or at least sorry she'd said anything. It was better than nothing.

* * *

They still hadn't moved from the area they'd left Una and Xavier and it was mid-day, the sun high and hot on the party of four Grey Wardens. Rose worked a kink out of her neck. Survivors of Ostagar had streamed by about an hour ago. Not many and most were sporting injuries she could barely comprehend as to how they were still on their feet.

Rose had noticed something though. When the darkspawn were nearby on the battlefield - she could feel their presence. She could vaguely feel a warmth when the other Grey Wardens were near. Was this how Warden Caron had known there were darkspawn ahead in the wilds? They could... feel darkspawn. How Warden Kalder had know Warden Andras was nearby? There was a definite presence about the three people she was travelling with that the other people in the communal campsite did not have.

The other Wardens! She put the wooden spoon down from stirring the dried pulses and meat - thing - she'd cobbled together that was cooking gently over their small campfire. "The other Wardens!" She hissed at her companions. Xavier was still nursing a headache of sorts - complaining of feeling addled. Una was sharpening her greatsword and had stripped to her underpadding to clean her armour with the vinegar. Lindra was using Xavier's set of medical needles and catgut to repair a rip in her leathers.

"What about them my dear?" Xavier groaned, lifting his head to look at her.

"Before the battle. Duncan said that Wardens Caron, Andras and someone else were sent off to get more Warden troops! The Wardens in the other countries!" She explained. But for the life of her she couldn't think where from. "That's what we can do next. We can travel south through the Gwaren passage, take boat in the Terynir and go to The Free Marches. They have Wardens and troops aplenty - they must do."

"This boat?" Una walked over and placed her greatsword down, squatting to a cross-legged position. "I dunno if you figured this but I ain't too good in a horse, a boat and I might just end up passing out."

"And The Free Marches? There's..." Xavier trailed off. "A lot of reasons I'd prefer not to go there."

Rose furrowed her brow. "Then there's..." She shuddered slightly. "Orlais. I'd prefer not to trust Orlesians with our nation. Especially with the inevitable civil war that's brewing up north."

"War?" Xavier questioned. "Why would there be a civil war?"

"Well first of all my parents were slaughtered by a close friend including my sister-in-law and my nephew. I won't go into details but I'll say she died first and I found men coming out her room with their britches unlaced." She took a deep breath. She'd told the King, and Duncan and Roland knew. It didn't make things easier by far to even say it - but it needed to be out in the open. "My parents were Teryn and Teryna of Highever."

"That's why you're weird!" Lindra snapped.

"Excuse me? I think seeing my parents die is enough..." Rose looked worriedly at the elf. Surely there was some slack this woman could give her? Maker's teeth she was telling them something important.

"Not that. Highever! Highever doesn't have a walled off Alienage!" Lindra suddenly looked at the ground and kicked a rock.

"We don't. The elves are equal to humans in rights in Highever. Both the Terynirs are moving forward from the transgressions of the past in that respect." Rose took in a deep breath. "I'm not talking about elven rights here though. The north will be a battlefield shortly. I don't know if other nobles were colluding with the bastard that did it... but all I know is that civil war will happen. We need to stop it. The darkspawn will overwhelm a divided nation as will any hostile foreign force. Hence why I proposed The Free Marches."

"So how do you plan on stopping both this Blight and this civil war?" Una suddenly reached forward and grabbed the wooden spoon, stirring the pot vigorously. "Ancestors arse cloudhead - it's burnt on the bottom!"

"First thing I ever cooked." Rose shrugged. "Regardless. Our plan to do this... Maker's teeth. We need an army regardless. We need more that four people with a limited amount of resources. The only troops we know that are united under a single banner are the Gwaren troops. In the battle strategy meeting I noticed a lot of nobility deigned to send troops too. Most notably would be Redcliffe."

"So Gwaren and Redcliffe troops. Let's pretend we have these troops and can feed et cetera these troops." Xavier rolled his hand forward. "What next my dear?"

"You call everyone dear don't you mage?" Una turned her head toward him, still stirring burnt 'thing'. "How old are you?"

"Thirty - irrelevant. Pretend we have these troops. We need a plan."

"So we'd have roughly five hundred men. That's about half what the King had at Ostagar. If we're thinking clearly we'd be able to sway a lot of the other nobles into sending their troops too. So even with estimated deaths before we get these troops we should roughly equal the Ferelden main army without the flanking troops we had." Rose rubbed her forehead. "I'm thinking... so we deal with this civil war first. All troops have reverted to us because we've won. That leaves the Blight."

"That Alistair fellow... he said something about ending the Archdemon and the Blight ends." Xavier put his information into the pot and Rose considered it.

"A dragon. A God. We just have a God to kill? Nothing serious is it? So... how would we even find the Archdemon? I assume it should come past any day now - nabbing virgins for sacrifices." Una snorted. Rose lifted her head and stared at the dwarf. The warrior woman knew a bit of history about Blights. All the Archdemons in the history books were dragons. She'd assume no different for this one - that and the dragon she'd seen when she had her Joining - she'd meant to ask Kalder about it.

"Somehow it has to be possible. This is the _Fifth_ Blight." Rose took in a deep breath. She needed to have a map, a stick and a good clump of rocks to represent troops. She didn't have anything. "So we march on the Archdemon - we pretend now we've found it."

"Small problem salroka, dragons fly."

"I intend to have automatically flying ballistae made for this. The Blights last years so we have time enough to make the instruments of war. We bring the Archdemon to ground and we end it. No more civil war and no more Blight. It's a plan." She rubbed her hands. "That actually smells good now. I'm starving my arse off and haven't had any sleep."

The group fell into silence as they ate quickly and without propensity to manners. None of them had eaten at least since Ostagar. Rose hadn't had a bite since before meeting the King and she felt like her stomach was sticking to her spine.

But she was feeling confident. She had a plan. They had an idea of what to do. They couldn't sit by aimlessly, they'd seen the danger of darkspawn at Ostagar but Rose knew what could happen in inter-country war. It was something nobles learnt so they could avoid it.

"Just a question." Lindra slurped the last of the brown goo that the meat had made around the pulses. "How do we stop a civil war? We can't sit everyone down and tell them off right?"

"We call a Landsmeet." Rose stated. "We sit every noble in the kingdom into the same room, present our argument and they vote. The whole goes with the majority."

"Say they vote against us?" Xavier questioned this time.

"They won't. I'm a Cousland - the upper nobility are friends you could say. Each sweated blood alongside my father, King Maric and Teryn Loghain during the Rebellion. Even if they discount me because I'm a Grey Warden in the vote, we have Teryn Loghain, at least three Arls should stand with us as well as countless Banns without breaking a sweat."

"How do we call one of these land-things?" Una asked. Rose straightened out. Would being a Grey Warden... shit. Kalder said she wasn't nobility any more. She couldn't call one. And with 'her' Terynir usurped... she really didn't have anything other than her name and skills.

"We have a member of the nobility call one. I suggest our first point of call is with either Teryn Loghain... or if he has decided to take his men to Denerim or Gwaren. We... go to Redcliffe. South Reach and West Hill are smaller Arlings, their vote is equal to other Arls but their power in reality is smaller. Arl Eamon Guerrin was uncle to the King and so has more... power in a way."

"You sound dubious my dear." Xavier's eyebrows arched with his statement.

"He isn't easily swayed. His wife is Orlesian and if I were truthful I would trust him as far as I could throw the man. But he would be our best option. We appeal to his better nature, his troops didn't arrive in Ostagar so he has those too. Our first point of call will be Redcliffe. Arl Eamon will call a Landsmeet on my behalf. We stop the civil war before innocents are lost and we then concentrate on the Archdemon and ending this Blight."

And for one of the first times in what felt like a long time - Rose felt oddly confident. She felt... like she could do something. This was what she was for and half of her life would be in talking and persuading people. The other three were looking at her in a mixture of both hope and in some ways - admiration.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Her brow furrowed and she automatically un-furrowed it on instinct.

"You leading us then?" Una smiled, the brand on her cheek dimpling.

"I could. If you think it best." She answered. There was a nod from both Xavier and Una before they all looked at Lindra.

"You had better be right about all this." The elf nodded. Rose felt like her approval was worth something more than a simple thing.


	7. Reunion

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: T for language and violence. (Spoilers - there has been a death!)

* * *

Rose decided they would stop the civil war first. Then they'd get the Wardens from other countries to stop the Blight. Ferelden had only been free from Orlesian Occupation for so long - to rely on another country while so vulnerable would weaken their national standing.

As if a Blight wouldn't do so. She could see grovelling to the Empress of Orlais for aide - the icy bitch denying their need and picking up the broken pieces of her country when they were over-run with darkspawn. Her chevaliers...

Such thoughts made her glad she hadn't been born into occupied Ferelden. That people like Teryn Loghain, King Maric, her father and so many other had sought to liberate them. She relied on her history that they would not have the same slavery of Ferelden people happen again. And if she caused it by asking the other countries into their borders while they were in their weakened state?

This was assuming a civil war would be fought. She was sure of it. No-body could have lived through the carnage of Ostagar without retreating. That meant the King was dead.

The King and the Teryn of Highever within a month. If that didn't incite a civil war amongst the nobility just vying for the positions themselves - it wasn't Ferelden but a perfect world she lived in. She struggled to think which nobility were at Ostagar too - as their heirs would be taking over their position.

It was confusing. Hopefully they would gain some information on the road and in the villages and towns on the way to Redcliffe. Gossip is a powerful way to gain information. "Are you fit to travel Xavier?" Rose stood and stretched out her tired muscles. They'd rested but not slept. They couldn't sleep so close to Ostagar.

"Do you feel something... warm?" The mage answered. Rose stayed still and focused on what was around her. Plenty of refugees from the villages around Ostagar that were still in the process of moving north. The vague warm feeling in her veins that each of the other Wardens seemed to emanate... There was more warm coming from south west. Close south west if she could feel it.

If she graded it - the three Wardens she was with felt only slightly less warm than this warm feeling. More Wardens!

There were Warden survivors of Ostagar! How it was possible when the rest of them had been either on the field or up in the Tower of Ishal was...

Of course! The Wardens in the tower! They were cut off from the darkspawn completely when the bridge had been destroyed! If they'd managed to escape and get around the horde of darkspawn somehow... "I'll scout it out. Aegis - with me boy." Rose picked up her bow and slapped her unscarred thigh to bring the mabari to heel.

Aegis lifted his head and blinked a few times before letting out a high pitched yawn and stretching out his heavily muscled body and plodding along with his mistress.

* * *

The sight that met Rose's eyes was quite what she'd expected and not. Llars, Daniel, Alistair and the wilds witch whose mother gave them the treaties. As well as the grey mongrel mabari. Not Cari in sight... And they were fighting the bandits that had set up shortly after her own group had arrived in Lothering. Never let it be said there weren't people who took advantage of dismal situations. Or that mages were weak fighters. Maker's teeth those spells looked painful from the screaming. There would be villagers coming to investigate soon.

Daniel had the leader pinned under his staff and the leader (he looked cleaner and better equipped that the others) was quaking in his boots. "Please! I'm only trying to make a living!"

"You say that - but you were quite happy to think you could kill us." Daniel growled low. "What says everyone else? We kill these bastards?"

"I have a different suggestion." Rose butted in, her bow out and arrow aimed at the rogue that was creeping up on the white-haired mage. The others looked at her in shock. "These men leave. Now. They stop taking advantage of the refugees and get on their merry way. Everyone lives."

"Yes! Let us please! We don't wanna die like the King!" The bandit leader moaned. Daniel stood up but kept his gnarled staff pointed at the man.

"Go - I never want to even hear that you're taking money off helpless people again." Then the group scampered off, leaving the group staring at her.

"Hello. I see some of your survived then." She stated to break the silent tension. "I take it Cari didn't make it?"

"Maker's breath! How did _you_ survive?" Alistair exclaimed. Rose's shoulders dropped. Not her proudest moment - leaving her troops dead while she escaped with her life. But she had that - and she had her plan on defeating both the inevitable civil war and the Blight.

"We survived by calling a retreat when the darkspawn overwhelmed us." She let out a huff of air. "My entire troop lost their lives. Only us Wardens and my mabari survived."

"You retreated!" Alistair turned a shade of red in anger and his jaw tightened. Rose narrowed her eyes at him. Who was he to judge? He'd been safe in a tower while her troop had fought for and lost their lives.

"I did! Have you ever seen someone who you saw become a father get stabbed through the middle - his blood spurt over you?" Rose seethed at the man - getting closer to him. She had wanted to hurt the templar in the wilds with his stupid words that could have been detrimental to their getting of treaties - she'd wanted to slap him when he wanted to be in battle. Now - she wanted to make him see such horrors and never die himself. He'd live with those deaths just as she had to.

"The King died! Duncan died!" Rose fumed at the words. As if they'd been the only two people on the field. So many people died...

"And funnily enough we're all alive! The signal came late and still we responded before our retreat! Who do I have to blame for that?" She grabbed him by his tunic poking out of his splintnail armour, her nails scraping into his neck as she pulled him toward her to make him see just how much death she carried with herself. "I've seen so many people die as of late and you're grousing over two people! One of them that didn't matter and the other who asked to be in the main army to get overwhelmed!"

"You bitch!" He spat. Rose used her free hand to wipe her face of the spittle.

"No. I'm not a dog." She said almost with an anti-climatic calmness, releasing him a bit but keeping a firm grip on his grubby tunic.

"You're just as bad as Loghain!" He continued. "He left them to die too!"

"He saved his troops! Or could you not see the carnage all the way up where you were?" Rose pushed him away and she turned away from him. "I suggest the Grey Wardens here follow me. I have a plan for defeating the civil war that will ensue and then the Blight. People who believe this fool can stay."

Rose stormed off and felt three of the four warm presences follow her. She turned around to see Alistair still standing there - staring at her like she'd killed a baby in front of him before he begrudgingly followed. "Quite the spectacle. Will I get to see more of those?" Daniel smirked from beside her.

"I enjoyed that too. Twas a treat to see the buffoon get his narrow-minded opinion handed to him." The woman from the wilds drawled. Just what was the woman doing here? Rose couldn't even remember her name but she was still fuming. She didn't care. One more person she'd have in her arsenal against this civil war and if she was correct - a mage. A walking weapon.

"You enjoyed me telling that fool his fortune?" Her eyebrows rose up and she smiled despite the anger. "He didn't see death. I have danced with the spectre of death and shook his hand. Death took those most precious to me."

"Of course I enjoyed it!" Daniel laughed, seemingly her comment on dead ignored. He actually laughed and the sound was almost like a blanket of normalcy to her. "Seeing a templar get his arse handed to him was the best thing I've seen in a long time. Hey - Llars - didn't you tell him to stop moping only five minutes ago?"

"I did." The Dalish elf nodded. "The shemlen said something about a plan for a civil war and the Blight though?"

"The civil war - it's inevitable with the two highest ranking men - families even being killed within a month." Rose started again. "I'll explain when we get to the others."

* * *

The elven mage and Llars explained what had happened to them in Ostagar, how the durgen'len that had lead them was lost in the fight alongside five soldiers that had guarded the tower against an Ogre. How they'd been saved from the tower when darkspawn had swarmed upwards through the foundations, how they'd been saved by Asha'bellanar and entrusted to look after her daughter for the duration of the banalhan.

In turn - the shemlen explained what she knew.

"So you believe that the retreat was necessary?" Llars said at last when Rose had finished her explanation of why there would be civil war and why it would be necessary to end that before the Blight. There would be no hope of defending a nation divided. The elf patted the head of the da'fen on his lap and the dog licked his fingers idly. "I have no clue as to what happen in your shemlen world but the banalhan is a destructive force. It is true we must unite the lands to proper defeat it. I agree this far."

"What makes you doubt the plan? I assume this 'banalan' is what the elves call the Blight." The shemlen asked. Llars pondered exactly why he had trepidations about it.

"The Commander entrusted the seth'li- Daniel to look after the treaties should the darkspawn break into the fortress. They did and we had to fight our way all the way up that tower hence why our signal was late." He mused a moment. "Asha'bellanar and the templar agreed that we should gain Ferelden allies that were entrusted to us Grey Wardens with the treaties."

She sat a moment, as if in deep thought. He was wondering if he was softening toward the presence of so many new, alien things and the shemlen. He'd not met many with the honour to explain their actions or back them with convictions. This one did. "And this Ashybellynor is actually Flemeth - as in Flemeth of Highever - witch of legends?" He winced at her poor pronunciation - she was trying to speak as he did. It was - an odd thing for a shemlen to be so accommodating.

"She is. I do not doubt she will collect at some point the debt we owe her for our lives. But that is what happened." He nodded and stroked the thick bristly da'fen from nose to tail, taking attentions to behind it's ears. The da'fen had found them in their journey from Asha'bellanar's dwelling. It had bonded to him because of the flower he had found to cure it's sickness.

"So we place a two pronged attack at this. Gather these allies from the treaties while combating the civil war. Then when we have a peaceful country - or as peaceful as Ferelden can be - we go for our foreign aide. That... makes a lot of sense. Who do you suggest we remind of their promises first?"

Llars was taken aback. He didn't know what to say. She wanted his opinion. She was a very strange shemlen - this Rose. "I'd say the mages. Warden Caron tried to get Knight-Commander Greagoir to send more mages for Ostagar and a lot of us signed up." The shemlen mage spoke. "I signed up but obviously - I got conscripted. I... would have been at Ostagar regardless."

"So we start with the mages and Redcliffe. Our two prongs working like that." The shemlen that seemed to have been voted as leader spoke. Llars found he wasn't so adverse to it as long as she remained respectful. It was difficult to have much hate for someone who had a plan that seemed to work. She pulled a large vellum map of Ferelden from the pack of supplies she'd bought previously and laid it out - pointing out the places they would be travelling to. "I suggest we have a mage in each group as we're splitting up. I will lead the group heading to Redcliffe and Llars will lead the group going to the circle. Are we going to Jainen or Kinloch Hold?"

"Jainen is small... And in the Waking Sea bannorn - so further away." The shemlen mage spoke. "If we go to Kinloch Hold, Jainen will follow suit."

"So Llars and Xavier will be in the Circle group. What have you named your mabari?" She directed the last bit to him. Llars furrowed his brow.

"Da'fen." He responded.

"You, Xavier, Daffy-"

"_Da'fen_."

"You, Xavier and _Da'fen_." She clenched her jaw a little. "Lindra and if Alistair stops moping in his corner over there - will all go into your group to the circle. I expect there will be war and if we encounter it we need to be in large and diverse groups to use what resources of fighters we have."

"I'm not moping!" The templar called.

"You had better be! Or you're being a terrible Grey Warden not listening to the plan!" She called back before taking a few deep breaths and spending some time looking at her map.

"I will have Una, Daniel, Aegis, and Morrigan in my own." She picked up the map and rolled it tight before putting it back into the canvas bag. "We leave soon. If I give you the coin Llars - will you purchase the necessary items for travel? The Dalish travel often so I'd assume you'd know what you need?"

"Indeed." He nodded and the shemlen got a thin leather pouch and passed two golden coins into his hands.

"This should cover everything and more." She got up from the floor. "We need to move though. Everyone should be rested enough until nightfall where we'll all share camp until we need to split. Agreed?"

There were murmurs of acquiescence and the shemlen stood, adjusted her helmet and put her bow onto the hook on her quiver. "Then we split into our groups pre-emptively. Those bandits said the Grey Wardens were responsible for King Calian's death did they not? That means we get a bit more information out of Lothering before we move. Before you purchase camp equipment - go to the tavern and see what the barkeeper says. If you slip him a silver coin his tongue will wag." Then she passed him a silver coin. "Money talks you see."

* * *

Rose felt... like there was more hope now. The two pronged 'attack' on getting both Blight allies and ending the civil war at the same time seemed the most sensible. It also meant she didn't have to deal with the templar. It was... sad that Cari had lost her life killing the Ogre, but a lot of people died. She was a tactician and most probably would have valuable input on all this.

She was also figuring who she could trust. The Dalish elf was honest with her, he - had a mabari and seemed affectionate with him. Aegis liked him too. Yes - she could trust him. That was why she had placed him in such a position to make decisions. She and he were of the same mind once they had all the information presented to them.

Aegis liked Lindra and Xavier too. He liked Una, he liked Daniel. He wasn't sure about Morrigan - the supposed daughter of Flemeth... there had been something odd about that old woman though... and he definitely did not like Alistair. It made it clear that she would have people she could trust with her and this Morrigan so she could form a proper opinion on the scantily clad woman.

Rose slipped the tent poles and canvas bedrolls on her back as well as the sheeting for the tents and the pots and skillet. Una hefted the rest of the items they had to her back. Llars would purchase the rest of the tents and items he'd need and take those for his group.

This would be easier if she had a horse or two...

Derek and Pale! They'd been stabled here! "My group - follow me, We're going to the stables!"

* * *

Rose found the stables easily and the man who ran it. He recognised her and she paid him the coppers that he was owed for looking after the horses. She'd take Derek and Llars would take Pale. She was surprised Roland hadn't taken his horse. But the knight was off to find Fergus, he needed to travel light to avoid detection.

She lead the horses on their reigns once she'd put their items on Derek. It was a good thing he was a well behaved horse. Unlike Skittish Prick. "Una, can you lead Pale to Llars over at the tavern..." Rose peered at the sign on the outside of the drinking establishment. "Dane's Refuge." The dwarf took the reigns of the horse hesitantly before straightening out and looking as impassive as possible and she tugged the horse into following her.

Her gaze wandered to a giant of a man with tightly bound braided white hair, a prominent white beard, bronzed-grey skin and easily fists the size of dinner plates. He seemed to be chanting in a foreign language.

"What is that... man doing in a cage?" Rose questioned the stablemaster - a man by the name of Leo Portland. Leo wiped his hands on his overalls and looked over to where she was looking.

"The Qunari? He murdered a family with his bare fists. Revered Mother thought he'd be good bait for the darkspawn." He shrugged. "In all honesty no-body deserves to be darkspawn bait. My sons were at Ostagar. I have to take my daughters and head to Denerim without them."

"I'm sorry for your loss Ser." Rose bowed her head. Leo shook his head and went back into his house adjoining to his stables.

The Qunari... it wasn't a man then. She didn't know much on the Qunari race - just about the Llomerryn accord that stopped the race from conquering any country inhabited by humans other than Tevinter.

_We are all pawns. _She could swear she heard Cari that moment and she thought on it. The Qunari didn't deserve to be darkspawn bait. She careful walked up to the small cage - it was much too small for him and put a hand up with her palm facing him.

"I mean you no harm Qunari... but I have a preposition for you." The man in the cage stopped chanting and looked at her as if for the first time.

"I have nothing to say to a human. Leave me to my fate." He spoke, a deep voice that shook in her very bones. She wouldn't be surprised if this man could shout someone into submission.

"Are you hostile?" She asked. It wouldn't do with her plans if this Qunari were hostile. She would gauge his reaction on his trustworthiness for now.

"If I were indeed hostile - you would be bleeding. Cage or no. Leave me to my fate." He intoned, repeating himself at the end. So he wouldn't be the sort to stab her in the back. If he had a problem he would voice it. She would not deal with betrayal.

"He is a proud, noble creature. We should free him for that sake only." Morrigan intoned from behind her. She felt herself agreeing but she had a small plan.

"Then you don't want to be freed to repent for your crimes of murder then." She shrugged. "Us Grey Wardens could have used someone like you too." She paused a moment and stroked Derek's dark mane. The horse craned his muscular neck at the attention.

"Grey Wardens?" She had him. If there was something she was sure of that even the Qunari were to have heard of the Grey Wardens. She'd read of their heroics and hoped that the Qunari though similarly to how she had before her conscription. "My people have heard of you - the legends tell of great warriors. I see that they lie."

"Is that so?" Rose drawled. She nearly had him. "So you would not approve of joining us in ending the Blight and the civil war? You'd prefer to rot in a cage."

"I would prefer to atone for my sins." That got her attention and she turned back to him and slipped her fingers under her helmet to grab her hair pins on either side of her head, her thick plaits falling out from under the helmet to rest on her shoulders.

She moved to his cage and slipped the hairpins into the lock. The tumblers in the lock were simple and the barred door swung open. "Free now. That means free to come out of the cage and join us Grey Wardens."

"You have merely opened a cage. That does not denote my freedom." He seemed to be evaluating her and she squinted up at him.

"Qunari - if you wish you atone for your crimes I suggest you tell me what sort of weapon you wield and if you have any armour. I will get these and you can atone by slaughtering darkspawn until the day you die." She straightened out her back and kept her gaze on his. She would not allow herself weakness against someone so much larger. She'd decided on this course and dammit to the Maker - she would stick by it.

He seemed to smile at that - the very edges of his mouth lifting slightly. "I wield a greatsword. My armour... was left in the house of the people I murdered."

"Which house?" Rose looked around and followed where the Qunari pointed. "Morrigan - the house will be empty and our Qunari associate will need his armour - get this please. I shall purchase a sword for him and an additional tent and bedroll. Aegis and Daniel - stay and guard him. What is your name Qunari?"

"I am Sten of the Beresaad. You may call me Sten." He answered. Rose crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes further at the kossith.

"You can call me Warden Cousland - or Rose. Either is acceptable. You will be travelling and fighting in my group from this moment on. Aegis - guard Sten and Daniel you can guard them both."

* * *

Rose returned to find that Sten was in his armour - which was little more than large shoulder pauldrons, light chain and thick leather britches and boots already on. She hefted the lot of supplies she'd bought. The greatsword was heavy and the last in stock. She hoped he would find it agreeable.

Daniel was watching the Qunari dubiously and Aegis seemed to have taken a liking to him judging by the wagging of his stumpy tail. He had the Aegis seal of approval then. "You travel with Saarebas." He stated as she neared.

"And what are they?" She asked, passing him the sword. He inspected it and pointed it at her elven mage and at Morrigan before sheathing it. So whatever he'd said - meant mages. Not elves as she though when he'd first pointed the sword to Daniel. Were the Qunari worried about mages? The Chant of Light said mages were bad but then again - she was sure the Qunari didn't follow the Divine. She'd seen the usefulness of mages as of yet. "Mages are useful."

"I shall keep a watchful eye on them then." He replied. Rose shrugged and put the extra tent and bedroll on Derek. The horse nudged her on the shoulder with his rubbery lips and she looked to what the horse was gesturing at with his head.

Llars was returning to her. He looked stern and he had a woman in leathers with a bow on her back with him as well as Pale loaded up with tents, bedrolls and other items like Derek was. "I do not approve of this using animals as beast of burden." He said as his group approached. "I see you picked up a stray too. Allow me to introduce-"

"Sister Leliana of the Lothering Chantry." The woman spoke. Rose stiffened and glared at her, taking in every aspect. Orlesian. Bright red hair that flicked at her chin and eyes bright blue in colour. Her bow was of fine make and she carried two daggers at her hips also. There was a certain light-footedness to the way she walked.

"An Orlesian. You seem to pick up odd companions Llars." She commented. The woman smiled at her - she didn't like it. Better an enemy that said they would stab you than have a dagger in your back.

"And you have a murderer in your midst." The Orlesian replied. "It seems the two leaders of the Grey Wardens pick odd companions both no?"

"You stay in his group." Rose clutched tight to her hairpins and slipped them into her pouch of poisons. She would not have this Orlesian questioning a choice that she'd made only a short while ago. "Put your hands out Orlesian."

"I don't follow-" She arched an eyebrow at her then carefully placed her hands out with the palms facing upwards. Rose took them and glanced at the shapes of callouses and any scars.

"You can fight with both dual daggers and bow and arrows judging from your callouses and have not fought with either for at least a year." Rose stated. "There are scars on your thumbs from being self-taught in dagger wielding and there is a poison burn on your right knuckle. This Orlesian is no Chantry Sister - she is a spy or an assassin. An out of work spy or assassin that has recently come out of a retirement."

"She said the Maker gave her a vision to join us after she helped us when we were cornered by some of Loghain's soldiers. You know - the person who retreated at Ostagar and caused the deaths of every other Grey Warden." Alistair butted in. Rose glared at him, dropping the Orlesian's hands.

"Is this before or after someone overheard you saying how Loghain is the reason the King died? I don't care if Andraste Herself told you all to bring an Orlesian along. She says in your group Llars if you wish to keep her." Rose moved to Aegis and scratched behind his ears to calm herself.

"She might be a Chantry Sister actually." Daniel moved forward and past her and stopped in front of the Orlesian. "The amulet she wears is of the Seekers. They are Chantry agents."

"This thing? I picked it up. The symbol of Andraste gives me comfort." The Orlesian quickly put her amulet into her leather jerkin. "I am no spy or assassin. I did have a vision from the Maker however. He told me to seek out the Grey Wardens and fight the Blight - I even have my own items for travel."

"I don't care." Aegis slumped against her thigh as she continued to scratch his ears. "You're in Llars' group - not mine. I trust you did not stay in the tavern long after this happened then?"

"We did not - no." The elf answered.

* * *

The outskirts of Lothering were quite vast for such a small village, mainly cottages and farmsteads among fields that would soon be overcome with darkspawn. Rose kept glancing over at the Orlesian. She was humming a tune under her breath - as if completely oblivious. She wondered what had gone through Llars' mind when he accepted someone who was so obviously a spy and stark raving loony. The woman had seemed to be utterly convicted of this vision from what she heard of Una's questioning.

The dwarf was certainly thick skinned when it came to talking to people. That - or the dwarven people didn't bother with the machinations of peoples that lived above their heads. Orlesians and Fereldens were just people she figured. From the map she had bought - Orzammar, the home of the dwarves was squat on the edge of the Frostback Mountain range - the kingdom extending in all directions under the ground. So part of Orzammar was in Orlais.

"Shitting Void! That feels like darkspawn!" Daniel shouted and he removed his staff from the back holster he used. A purple glow lighted up the end and Rose removed her bow and an arrow from her quiver - scanning the surrounding area for the burning she could feel in her own veins.

Then she caught sight of them. A group of possibly ten hurlocks by the looks of it - ahead on the road where a caravan was stilled - two short men trying to move their mule. "Una and Alistair - stay here to look after the horses." She broke into a run, Aegis loping on fast paws at her feet as she notched the arrow back and fired - her arrow went cleanly into a hurlock back and the hurlock turned, sword raised when another arrow hit it in the forehead... the only other archer was the Orlesian.

The hurlock went down and Llars charged past and with a sweep of his sword he bisected another before twisting his hips and running another through. A spell hit one of the hurlocks square in the chest and it blinked a moment before it exploded in a shower of gristle and blood - metal armour flying through the air like bloody projectiles.

Maker's teeth! Another tingling wave of magic went past her as she notched another arrow and one of the hurlocks she'd been aiming at suddenly went up in flames. That was Xavier. Lindra seemed to appear out no-where and her daggers were deep in the back of a hurlock before she almost disappeared again with how quickly she moved.

Suddenly one of them went to it's knees - screaming and the two dogs tore into the hurlock, rending limbs off the body.

Llars swept another hurlock into two pieces and Rose reached into her pouch of poisons and threw a vial of acidic venom she'd extracted from snakes up in Highever at another as Lindra slipped her daggers into it's back.

Sten was suddenly in the middle of it all and finished the remaining ones with one swipe of the greatsword, blood dripping as he shook it off the sword and sheathed it on his back in his scabbard. Maker's teeth - she felt a lot more validated in recruiting the Qunari. That was a powerful singular swing of the sword.

Rose hooked her bow on her quiver again and stepped over the darkspawn corpses to the two short men - which she could see now were actually dwarves. "Are you two okay Sers?"

"Enchantment!" The one without a beard almost leapt at her as he spoke and she quickly side-stepped.

"Oh don't mind the boy. That was mighty fine timing you have stranger." The other one - a dwarf with a neatly plaited beard and tired eyes spoke. He'd successfully calmed his mule and was walking up to her.

"Quite." Rose replied, keeping a wary eye on the younger dwarf in case he leapt at her again. "You should be more careful when travelling - there's a Blight on."

"Right you are." He nodded and he put a hand to his chin and scratched his beard. "You lot wouldn't be looking for a job guarding me and my son would you?"

"I'm afraid not Ser." Rose pursed her lips. The last thing they needed was two dwarves without any combat skills using them.

"We couldn't tag along could we?"

"I'm afraid Ser I don't know your name and we're on fairly - complicated business." She put a hand up to her forehead. Maker's teeth she was feeling weary - if she judged the sun they would be walking for two more hours before dusk and they could set up first camp.

"Say no more. Bodahn Feddic knows when not to bother someone." He put his hands up in surrender for the line of questioning.

"Well we had best be on our way. Wardens - follow!" And with that - they left the two dwarves.

* * *

Setting up a tent was easier than she'd previously thought - it was just a matter of putting the poles up correctly and staking out the canvas properly. Rose chucked her bedroll still rolled into the tent and went over to the two horses, lavishing attentions on them for carrying their equipment. Derek nuzzled her shoulder when she switched to brush her hand on Pale and she shook her head and reached to the panniers on the horse to fish out a carrot.

She broke it in half and handed them to the horses in her palms. Greedy bastard of a horse Derek is he guzzled it down as if he'd never eaten. She tutted and staked the close to the pond they'd set camp at. "Now be good. I'll check on you both when I've had some food myself."

She wandered to the campfire to see Alistair stirring something that looked very grey and lumpy. Suddenly the clawing hunger she seemed to have from so long awake didn't seem so bad. The carrot she'd broken for the horses looked to be a tastier meal.

"Why is the templar cooking?" She heard Daniel hiss at Llars.

"For his outburst of calling our leader a bitch." Llars responded in his lyrical accent. Rose straightened out. She was the leader here? She pretended not to hear them and continued to the campfire, sitting herself on the dry mud and crossing her legs.

Llars considered her the leader too. Una, Xavier and Lindra had pushed the job onto her beforehand... but Llars, Daniel and Alistair hadn't said anything. A brief waft of what was cooking hit her and she almost gagged. "Maker's teeth Alistair - what are you cooking?" She wrinkled her nose and attempted to fan the acrid smell away. Even the 'thing' she'd cobbled together earlier in the day had been somewhat tasty smelling and edible at least.

"Lamb and pea stew." He replied, his tone terse. Rose groaned. That didn't smell like any lamb and pea stew she'd smelt or tasted either. "If you think you can do better - you can try." The wooden spoon clattered in the pot. Rose groaned again.

"I know what it's like to lose people you're close to." She finally spoke, staring at his hunched form. He didn't reply so she continued. "I had my entire family, my entire troop - each a man I knew - die in front of me."

"You don't seem so broken up over it." He finally spoke. Rose clenched her fists at her sides and stood up. Maker give her strength she wished she could strangle him.

"I was sure you wouldn't understand." She snapped. Rose got up and stomped over to the horses and pulled out two carrots before going to her tent and unbuckling the belt around the oilskin and canvas bedroll with the carrots tucked under her chin.

She kicked it flat and flumped onto the bedroll, holding her carrots like daggers in each hand before taking a bite of the raw vegetable in her left hand. Bastard templar. She didn't know why he bothered her so much. It was that uncaring - almost flippant attitude he'd had in the wilds mixed with the moping now.

He'd had his commander die. That's why it grated so much on her. There was the sound of food being dished out and the smell of that horrid version of lamb and pea stew permeated even into the tent.

"So how long did you know him shem?" She heard Lindra speak outside the tent. Hmmm... eavesdropping wasn't a good thing to do but it wasn't as if Duncan had been the man's father.

"Six months. He saved me from a life in the Chantry you know." Rose had to bite hard into her carrot not to go out there and slip poison into his portion of food.

_He took me away from my father just after he died!_ She really wanted to scream it. She didn't - she was so damned hungry that hit hurt not to stuff the entire carrot into her mouth and not even chew. _My home was in flames and he believed being a Grey Warden was more important!_ She might be dead but she wouldn't have to carry this horrid pain with her any more.

The flaps of her tent opened and the elven rogue slipped in, she _shhing'd_ her dagger in and out of her main arm sheath. "Blasted shem... I thought I'd comfort him you know." Lindra glowered out of the tent as she dropped onto Roses bedroll.

"I figured. Wishing you weren't in the same group as him?" Rose handed a half a carrot to the elf and Lindra looked at it. "It most probably tastes better than whatever was cooked out there."

"I wish I could hate you blue-blood. I do." She muttered as she bit into the carrot with a large crunch. Rose snorted. "Youf fink it's..." The elf swallowed hard. "You think it's easy having a blue-blood lording about? That the blue-blood has a plan when I can't think of anything? I might have run to the Dalish and hoped they'd take me in."

"Why don't you hate me then?" Rose smiled lazily. She was tired and had one and a half carrots in her stomach.

"You ain't as bad as any of the other shems. I don't know why but you really confuse me." Rose sat there in her half-awake state, anger forgotten as she tried to understand. Her gaze flitted over the elf's coal-black hair tied tight with a yellow ribbon at the nape of her neck, the dark brown eyes that hardened every so often. "So I know your family died. You have my condolences about that and don't think I'm brushing that aside but why are you a Warden?"

"I got conscripted." Rose shrugged. "You?"

"Killed a noble - conscripted to save my life." Lindra shrugged back. Rose's eyes widened and Lindra snorted. "Bastard deserved it - don't you worry. I bet you knew him actually."

"You're from Denerim aren't you?" Rose kept her tone impassive. "So I'd say Vaughan Kendalls."

"You really put people off from telling a good story when you do that - you have this way of reading people and it disarms me. Well - I stuffed his dick down his slit throat. He raped my cousin." There was an almost casual nonchalance about her saying it that woke Rose up completely. "Wasn't the first time he kidnapped elves either. Bastard made a mistake when he thought I'd be his fuck toy though."

"I wish I'd used a stronger poison last time he tried to feel me up." The edges of her mouth lifted slightly. "I made him piss himself though. And void his bowels."

"Wish I could have seen that." Lindra picked herself up off the floor. "Well - it's been fun talking about who I killed. But I need to hit the hay if I'll be any good tomorrow. G'night blue-blood. Don't go against this shaky opinion I have that you're different - there'll be a dagger in your back so quick you won't know it."

"I understand." Rose nodded. The elf left her tent and she laid down on her bedroll. That talk had taken her mind off things.

But it also meant there was yet another noble she couldn't sway over the civil war. She'd seen his father Urien at Ostagar - only briefly but that man's nose was unmistakeable. So that Arling was empty - no-one to take the reins. If civil war didn't set Ferelden ablaze with the clamouring for the Arling, throne and Terynir she knew were empty...

Maker's teeth - she needed to sleep. She couldn't think. There'd been so much death. Death begot death. With the loss of key nobility, innocents would lose their lives. That boiled her blood. She was sure Lindra hadn't thought about that when she'd killed Vaughan Kendalls. To be honest she wouldn't be thinking of that when she finally got her fingers around Rendon Howe's neck and slowly choked the life out of him.

She'd just have to think of ways to work round such obstacles when she reached them.


	8. Travel

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: T for language.

* * *

Rose awoke with a jolt, sweat coming from every pore on her body and she shook herself to get a grip. She could still see that Blighted dragon. The one she knew was Urthemiel, the song it sang was beautiful, almost heart-wrenchingly pure as a sound. The dragon commanded and she felt the burn in her veins fight against such persuasiveness until she felt as if her lungs would give out from heaving her breaths to deny the God.

The God that had been tainted and now commanded the darkspawn, that made them into the efficient horde that had killed her troops and forced Duncan to make her as she was - a Grey Warden. Was it prophesy?

She quickly threw on her red tunic and hose as well as her boots and oilskins - taking care not to disturb her mabari turned space-heater from his sleep. Aegis almost looked like a puppy again while sleeping. She could almost remember the day Fergus gave her the animal as a present. His own hound 'Rebel' had puppies and she had wanted to see them so much. One of them had taken a shine to her, a scrappy tan coloured thing with over-sized paws and pleading soulful eyes. He'd bonded to her within that time and Fergus gifted her the pup when he'd weaned from his mother.

She shook still as she exited her tent, wiping sweat drenched hair off her face and braiding her plaits but leaving them loose down her tunic. She glared at the figure still awake on watch. Alistair. "Bad dreams?"

"You could say that." Rose answered as she put the second leather tie around her second plait. She sat next to the embers of the fire and poked it with a stick, the end of it sparking in the half-ash and orange glow. She could still smell that disgusting lamb and pea stew. It made her want to vomit and she did not have the strength to do so.

"I suppose Duncan never got the chance to tell you huh?" She glowered at him, making a mental note to slip the poison that made people lose control of their bladder and bowels into his food.

"Of course he told me nothing. I was just another pawn in his troops. One that understood strategies. Quite the fine recruit for him." She answered tersely, never looking away from the embers of the campfire. "Why would he tell me anything negative about being a Warden?"

"You know - I'm going to ignore that comment and continue anyway. Those dreams - they're a Grey Warden thing. It's how we know it's really a Blight." She quickly glanced at him and snorted before looking back at the embers.

"Well thank you kind Ser for telling me after I woke up sweating like a pack mule." Rose wiped her fingers on her forehead. She was burning up. He skin inflamed. "Anything more that's so attractive about being a Grey Warden?"

"There's the hunger?" Alistair shrugged. "I bet you felt that."

"I had wondered." She hissed. Rose had never felt like such a pig when eating before, the 'thing' she'd cooked and the carrots she had scoffed almost wolfishly. "Now is there anything else you wished to say?"

"Er..." She snorted at his utterance. "Sorry for calling you a bitch?"

"I've been called a barbarian for years. Being called a bitch does not injure me so." She threw the stick at the embers and watched the bark of it hiss and crackle as the fire tried to consume it already. "No. You disrespected the lives of my family and of my troops."

"Oh yeah." She looked over at him and squinted. He looked vaguely sorry about it.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry?"

"That isn't good enough." She stood up and crossed her arms. "People died with more dignity than you have in breathing. I suggest you learn what course you are on Alistair before I decide which part of you feeds my mabari."

"Ouch - harsh! It's not like anyone else has feelings you know." She rolled her eyes and noted that Aegis was plodding wearily out of her tent, high-pitched doggy yawns and shaking his entire muscular body. She patted her left thigh - the unscarred one as the right was still vaguely tender if she slapped it too hard - to call the hound to and he soundlessly obliged.

"Everyone does. You seemed to have forgotten that too." She hunched down and stroked Aegis' head, taking her attentions behind his ears. The mabari was looking at the remnants of the stew left in the cooking pot with a look that was asking to lick the pot clean. "Go ahead boy. No-body else will touch that."

"My cooking isn't _that_ bad." The other Warden pursed his lips as the dog sniffed and tentatively lapped at the stew. Rose arched an eyebrow.

"It's worse than mine and I cooked for the first time today. I burnt the bottom of my pan and still it smelt edible in the least. You are not cooking again to waste our resources."

"Yes ma'am." He gave her a flippant salute as a scream came from Una's tent. Rose rushed over and poked her head into the canvas, not bothering for propriety.

A completely naked dwarf met her eyes, sweat sheened over her entire scarred, muscular form. Rose paid attention not to stare and instead removed her head. "Is everything alright?" She asked lamely in.

"Pictures... while I slept. Fuck me salroka what was that?" Was the reply.

"Darkspawn dreams apparently." Rose answered. "Grey Wardens get them." Silence ensued over the campsite before there was a brief shuffling and the dwarf stuck her head out of the tent.

"Dwarves don't dream." Una pushed out in a beige tunic, brown britches and low boots. Rose sighed. To never dream and be plagued by the faces you'd loved as you slept. "So you say I dream now and the first one I have is of a genlock eating my sister's face... fucking stone."

"That's what I gathered." She answered. Another groan - this one much lower broke the air again and Rose snorted a long breath. That was one of the men. She'd be a little more discreet about looking in their tents. The last thing she wanted to see was Daniel, Xavier or Llars in their naked glory.

A tan and red tattooed face emerged from the assorted tents and the Dalish elf emerged in green hose and nothing else other than his greatsword with the flat of the blade resting on his shoulder as he wordlessly sat at the campfire. "The Beyond. It - is a worrying place tonight. I dreamt of the Banalhan."

* * *

The night continued as such that Rose was forced to make up some chamomile and ambrosia tea in the cleanest pot before pouring them into the pewter mugs and handing them out to her fellow Wardens. It was a good thing that Xavier could make clean water in the form of ice then melt it and further boil it because she didn't want to work on filtering the pond water for drinking. The sun was rising over the fields, dull orange rays poking over green verdant crops that would soon have darkspawn spume ruining them.

Everyone had been woken in the end. Even the Orlesian, Witch and Qunari. Aegis nudged Rose's abandoned mug as her feet and she idly picked it up. The tea was long cold but she drank the soothing - if bitter liquid. Still watching the lazy climb of the sun.

She'd not slept properly since being in her own bed. It was so long ago that it could have been another lifetime. Now she'd not get proper sleep again until at least the Blight was over. She could imagine Oriana and her mother covering her face in powders and creams to assay the dark circles and red-rimmed eyes she was sure she'd get if she did not have them yet. A smile tugged the corner of her mouth in memory of them and their fussy ministrations on her appearance.

This was how she would mourn. Remembering not how they died but how they had lived - it was less painful this way - still raw and bleeding but not like salt rubbed into the wound. Then she would avenge their deaths on the man who ordered them. It could not bring them back but it would be closure to such bloody ends.

"Copper for the thoughts of the ravishing leader?" She glanced up to the tall mage who sat by her - staring at the sunrise as she was. She took in a deep breath.

"Just remembering happier times when I was an ungrateful whelp and not the _ravishing leader_." Rose sighed. "Copper for the thoughts of an old-fashioned mage?"

"My dear, I haven't the foggiest on what you mean." Xavier smiled, raking a hand through his rusty floppy hair. "I'm not that old."

"You act it." She replied with a snort. He was like Fergus after getting married - a bit jovial and acting more a man twice his age. "So Lindra told me how she became a Grey Warden. What's a mage like you doing in a doomed order like this?"

"Conscripted. The Knight-Commander refused my part in joining the forces at Ostagar - I threw a bit of a tantrum to be fair and knocked the bookshelves over with a Mind Blast - that's Arcane Magic. Warden Caron had just conscripted Daniel and pointed to me 'I'll take that one too' as if she was asking for a vegetable in the market." He smiled at the memory and patted Aegis at Rose's side. "Your mabari is very tame."

"He's a soft thing with a fondness of getting into larders and being a loveable nuisance. He's tame to people he likes. Everyone else gets a limb torn off - don't they boy?" She patted the dog too and Aegis perked up, nudging at her to continue her affections. "Mabari are smart, they know if someone is trustworthy or has honour. I trust as he does."

"At least he likes me then!" Xavier laughed under his breath. "I had a dog when I was younger... well - it was my mothers. The stupid animal bit me and I forced it away with a Mind Blast. The first time I used magic in my life. 'Rat' was her name - she was one of those ridiculously small ones that yips and bites. Well... I lie. I called it Rat. Her real name was Priscilla."

"How old were you?" Rose asked, just holding her pewter mug in her hands and watching the former Enchanter turned Grey Warden stroking her mabari. She was going to have a problem here - the dog liked the mage a lot. She'd have a moping hound when they all split up. Perhaps she'd ask for Daniel and Xavier to switch groups?

"Fourteen. Quite old to manifest magic." He shrugged. "My family was on holiday in Ferelden for the winter. Said I should see proper snow because in The Free Marches we don't get any."

"That's why you don't want to go to..." She trailed off. "I must have been difficult - getting torn away from your family."

"On the contrary my dear - they gave me up." Xavier sighed. "Are we leaving soon? I think it might be best if we make haste to where we need to go."

"Right you are." Rose got up and stretched out, still holding to her mug. "I'll set up the horses."

She watched the mage attempt to take his tent down with a lot of difficulty and cursing. Xavier Amell was an odd one. Friendly - but odd. And he reminded her of her brother.

* * *

Llars and Rose spoke on their groups and Llars said he would prefer the elven mage in his group to the quote 'shemlen mage' unquote. Rose shook her head at his words. He now had both the elves as well as Alistair, the Orlesian and Da'fen in his group. She'd accidentally called the mongrel dog 'Daffy' again and the Dalish elf glared at her and forced her to say his name five times to get it correct.

So it left her with Una, Xavier, Morrigan, Sten and Aegis. She could get to know their new companions better. It still bewildered her that the supposed daughter of Flemeth had been forced to go with them. To what end? Llars' suspicions on Flemeth wanting to claim a debt of them later on were most probably correct but it really did confuse her as to why the ancient witch would want to give them her daughter. It irked her not to understand.

"Going back to the circle with a templar in tow. I feel loved leader." Daniel muttered at her. Rose shook her head.

"And I feel my mabari moping if Xavier doesn't stay. He's also a healer. I like having a healer." She could admit that much. That the mage really did remind her of her family in a non-overbearing way unlike how Roland had. It was more of an inner secret and an opinion she was still forming.

"I blow things up!" He groused. "I'm the most powerful mage of my generation!"

"You'll be the most arrow filled mage of you generation if you question my decision." She jabbed with a smirk. The white-haired mage squinted at her before bursting into laughter.

"What's so sodding funny?" Una questioned.

"Daniel thinks I'm joking about peppering him with arrows if he questions my decisions." She replied to the dwarf with the dreadlocks.

"A sensible decision. The troop should follow their leader without question." She quirked her head to the voice of the Qunari. He didn't speak much.

"I agree." Rose sighed. "Do you have anything you like Sten? I'm trying to figure you out."

"I like swords and I follow orders. What else is there to figure out Warden?" His face was impassive throughout and Rose put a hand to her forehead, her fingers hitting the metal of her winged helmet. It was like talking to a stonework wall.

"Do you like anything else?" She asked with a sigh.

"I like... your animal. He is a warrior." Rose glanced down at the dog. It looked pleased with itself and Aegis' entire rump was shaking with his stub of a tail.

"He may be... but he's also a pesky thing that gets flatulent in bed if he nicked cheese from the larder. Yes - I'm looking at you Aegis. Nan threatened to get you fumigated." The dog whined. "Don't you do puppy eyes on me. It doesn't work." He whined more. "Sod it."

Rose strode forward and reached into Derek's pannier, lifting out a thin strip of jerky and tossed it to the hound. Lindra watched her doing this the entire time from her seat on the horse - she was teaching Xavier how to ride on Pale. She wasn't doing badly even if the mage was clinging to the reins with white-knuckled fear and his thighs were tight to the horse. "The hound is manipulative. A vital piece of information." Morrigan sniffled from the side.

"He is."

"I should know. I have... watched him when the circle twit lavished attentions on him. He was given a strip of meats then also." The witch smirked. Rose looked down at the animal.

"You manipulative little swine." She tutted. "You are going to get fat. Then who will play fetch with you?"

"The dog needs to be trained." Sten muttered. "The mould of a warrior is obviously there but he lacks discipline."

"True." She nodded.

* * *

Llars watched quietly as the shemlen was taught how to ride. He lacked grace. The seth'lin rogue was using the horse to alleviate her feet and so agreed to teach the shemlen mage. He wasn't comfortable with using the noble creatures as beast of burden.

But at the same time he did not wish to carry the equipment either. He was conflicted. "You seem troubled." Llars whipped his head to the delusional shemlen that claimed her God spoke to her. He narrowed his eyes at the woman. The sheml- Rose - had made her point that both of them were leaders.

She of one half and he of the other. But she did not approve of his bringing of the delusional woman along. He'd... thought that another archer might have appeased her and put himself in her favour. He would not bow to her but he would not anger one that seemed to know what to do. In the clan he'd followed the will of Keeper Marethari. To have another fulfil this role of will was comforting. It was in his nature to do things correctly. "Do not concern yourself with me shemlen. I do not care for your pitying stares."

"My stares are not pitying!" She furrowed her brow. "I was not staring."

"You were." Llars shrugged his shoulders to reposition his greatsword. Da'fen beside him made a whining and went to the shemlen. He narrowed his eyes at the animal.

"See, even your mabari agrees. I am not staring at you."

"The animal must smell food on you." He stated. "But I know you were. No doubt you have never met one of the true elvhen such as myself." He would talk to her. It would stop her gaze. Warden Andras had said as much... the shemlen were always curious to new things.

"I have heard tales of the Dalish." She answered.

"And did they say of the savagery we have toward the shemlen? Of the heathens that we are and how your Chantry hunts us toward extinction?" He glowered at her.

"But of course not!" She gasped. "I know of the tale of the Knight Aveline. Have you heard it?"

"I cannot see how a tale about a Knight relates to the Dalish." He responded.

The shemlen then launched into a ridiculous tale about a da'lethallan that was actually of shemlen birth, taken in by a Dalish clan. They raised her as one of their own apparently to have her teach the Orlesian masters a lesson that a woman could be a warrior too. The woman - called Aveline - entered into a competition to fight other knights called a tourney.

She bested them with the skills taught to her by the Dalish until she was unmasked as a woman when her helmet was ripped off. The knight she had been fighting shouted at her to 'know your place woman' before rending her head from her shoulders and parading the severed head as a trophy.

Outraged, the prince - from what he gathered - demanded the execution of the knight and henceforth the women of Orlais were allowed to be knights. All female knights honoured this Aveline. A woman brought up by the Dalish.

He snorted when she'd finished. "Another tale on how the Dalish are savages."

"No!" The woman cried. "You misconstrued my point!"

"I understood it. The woman was taught Dalish arts which made the shemlen question her skills. She was discovered because of this and the shemlen turned their own brand of savagery on her. It is simple - you just do not see. For that I pity you." He squared out his shoulders.

"I... never thought. It is a tale of people caring for one another. Of fighting injustices imposed." She hung her head as if defeated.

"No. It is a tale where a woman died because of bigotry. The same bigotry that causes us to live as nomads. That caused the Exalted Marches." He took in a deep breath. "If you could not see that before shemlen you have been blinded by what those would have you believe. I suggest you think on what you know."

* * *

Xavier was sore from learning how to ride. He'd only fallen from saddle three times and he was sure he'd permanently injured himself from his tight grip on the horse Pale. The former Enchanter watched as the Dalish elf decided to cook for the evening - having not eaten more than a mouthful of food last night and eating only an apple during the day - Llars had decided to make sure they were in form to fight should the need arise.

He was famished himself. The smell coming from the cooking pot tonight set his mouth salivating. He couldn't resist the almost unholy want to eat everything in that pot. "Well my dear - that smells delicious. I do hope that it's as nice as it smells." He spoke to Lindra - who was helping him set up his tent.

He'd never had to learn such things before. The Denerim elf was being fairly helpful to him today with the horse-riding and tent setting. "Shem - you keep calling me _dear_ and I'll have a boot in your nuts."

"I meant no offence." He put his hands up in surrender. Daniel laughed at him. "And you have been surprisingly affable today young one."

"Getting used to being free Enchanter. It's fun to not be cowed by our oppressors." The elven mage raked his hands through his stark white hair and tossed it behind his thin shoulders. "I'll agree though. Seems our Dalish leader can cook can't he Lindra?"

"He's our leader... true." Lindra pursed her lips. "But Rose is our leader when she's here... sort of like a commander and Llars is second in command."

"Dinner is served. I made a point to poison the meals of the shemlen." Llars announced. Everyone seemed to descend into an impatient queue as the elf ladled the food into bowls. The sounds of rapturous enjoyment from Rose and Una when they'd received and started eating made him feel more impatient.

Finally he was given a bowl and a golden brown lumpy stew was ladled up to the brim of his bowl and Xavier sat by the campfire, his spoon poised to eat the food. "This is bloody good poison salroka!" Una called out.

"The durgen'len received less poison - for being short." The Dalish elf smirked. Did... Llars just make a funny? The Maker had a sense of humour then.

Xavier let the aromas of the stew drift into his nose before he took a bite of the hot food. Salted pork, onions, apples, ginger and carrots he believed. As well as some herbs he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was amazing though and he shovelled another spoonful into his mouth - eager to fill himself with the food.

"Maker's teeth this is the best poison in Thedas!" He laughed at the outbrust from his leader. Xavier thought she was very caring in her own way - and she had this staunch way of showing it but there was this kind soul under all of that. She was noble.

Both the mabari - the tan and grey ones were moping around the cookpot as Llars dished his own bowl out. "You two may have the pot. Enjoy it, as you will be hunting your suppers in future." He spoke low to the animals, moving to pot to the floor on it's side so the two mabari could eat the leftovers.

There was a creaking sound of wood and the mage looked up to see a covered caravan pulled by a mule come close to their camp. Closer to where the witch kept her own counsel but still close. Rose got up with a clatter of her spoon in her empty bowl and made her way over to the caravan.

* * *

Rose was impressed to no end by Llars' cooking skills. She wished he'd not given the mabari hounds the leftovers as she would have gladly eaten what was left and licked the pot out. She'd - thought it almost funny when he'd declared that he'd poisoned it because the whole of them ate the food the same.

But there were people approaching their camp site. She would have to steer them somewhere else as if they were stopping they'd get rudely awakened by screaming Grey Wardens and other noises - Daniel and Xavier had nearly caused a magical problem as they were groaning - and it was ear-poppingly loud.

"Travellers - it may be best if you camp elsewhere." She said as she approached the covered caravan and a somewhare familiar dwarven face and beard poked out at her. She'd not met many dwarves.

"We found the right camp site!" Was the reply followed by an - 'enchantment' from within the caravan.

"I'm sorry Ser but I do not remember your name. You are the dwarves we saved though - am I correct?" Rose crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the dwarf to get out of his caravan.

"Bodahn Feddic at your service." The dwarf bowed slightly. "I thought on it and thought to myself 'those people are Grey Wardens - what safer place to camp for the night in the middle of a Blight'?"

Rose considered it. Should they charge him for this? They were mainly going to be sleeping if not on watch for dangers during the night. The Qunari had offered himself on first watch with Llars and Una, she had decided to take second with Lindra and Daniel. She was broken from her thoughts by the dwarf speaking again. "I'm a merchant Warden - I would gladly share what resources I have such as food and luxuries. I will also convey a discount to you on any item I have in stock that you wish to buy."

_We are all pawns_. That same voice that sounded like Cari sounded in her head and she took in a deep breath. Why leave such an offer? "You're welcome Ser Bodahn Feddic to stay with us as long as you wish." She nodded to him.

"Marvellous! Sandal my boy say thank you to the kind lady." The younger beardless dwarf fidgeted on the spot where he had stood next to his father and Rose braced herself for a leaping hug like he'd attempted beforehand.

"Thank you kind lady." He blushed slightly and Rose hunched her shoulders slightly and bent at the knees and hips to give him a brief hug and a peck on the cheek. The younger dwarf was rather endearing. The sheepish look on this 'Sandal's face was worth the show of affection.

Bodahn smiled in adoration to his son and her and Rose straightened back out. "I shall leave you for this evening then Sers Feddic. Good night to you."

Then she left them, she caught out of the corner of her eye as she left them the elder dwarf get out a tin and some thin papers to roll out a cigarette. Maker's teeth - she almost felt like turning back and asking if she could pinch one for her later watch shift. A cup of chamomile and ambrosia tea with a cigarette. Maker... that sounded inviting to her.

In the end - she turned back and purchased a tin of tobacco and some papers from him for twelve coppers and sat with the dwarf while she was taught how to roll out a cigarette.

On her third attempt the cigarette was smokable and he got out a match and struck it against the rough wood of his caravan to light it. He cupped the lit match for Rose and she inhaled deep of the smoke vice, sitting next to the dwarf as she let the almost euphoric affect settle into her bones.

"So what brings you all the way out here Bodahn?" Rose asked as she blew out a cloud of pale grey smoke. The dwarf snorted out a little cloud of his own before speaking.

"Just selling my items Warden. Coincidentally - my son can work enchantments into weaponry and armour so if you come across runes I'm sure he'd be pleased as punch to do so for you."

Rose sucked in another mouthful of the rolled cigarette and pondered it. "For free? That would be... generous." Her mother had once shown her an enchanted bow - it created magical fire on the arrows that burned the targets and not the arrow, bow or archer. Such things were expensive.

* * *

Llars sat with the kossith and the durgen'len. The irony that he'd never encountered such races before leaving his clan was not lost on him. He looked over the carnival of tents with the ribbons denoting which tent belonged to whom.

His had a green one. The two seth'lin... no fellow elven Wardens had an orange and yellow one on each of their tents. The shem- Rose had a red one and the templar a blue one.

The durgen'len - Una - had a brown one and the shemlen mage had a purple one on his tent pole. The daughter of Asha'bellanar kept her tent far from theirs and so no ribbon was on hers.

The delusional archer shemlen had a pink ribbon on hers. The kossith Qunari had no ribbon as the witch did not. "So elf - in Ostagar I had to carry you. You're bleeding heavy."

Llars looked over at the stocky dugen'len warrior. Her sword was as tall as his and just as well cared for. Da'fen liked her also because he was leant against her and sleeping with his head in her lap. "We wield the same type of weapon - I would assume my muscle would weigh some." He shrugged. "Sten - do you not wield a greatsword also?"

"I do." The Qunari grunted. "It is the only thing we all have in common."

"I disagree salroka - we're all hard arses when it comes to talking." The durgen'len smirked. Llars found himself shaking his head and smiling. He supposed the durgen'len was not as bad as previously thought. She was more amicable than the durgen'len that lead him in the Tower of Ishal - he would not forget how she sacrificed herself to the Ogre to draw attack off him. It had been the only thing he'd ever seen of her to have been selfless.

"Warden - why do you allow a woman to lead you all?" The Qunari spoke. Llars glanced over to him and wondered what he meant. He was more shocked that he allowed a shemlen to lead him than a woman.

"She has a plan. The role of leadership goes to who is more capable. I cannot see the Senior Warden of us taking such effective lead and I would not follow him." He answered truthfully.

"She is disconcerting." Sten replied. "I have never met a woman who parades as a fighter and yet there are many of them in your lands."

"Hey - I'm a woman too." The durg- Una muttered. "I ain't much to look at but there might be a woman under all my armour. I might'a nicked the armour from her and forgotten to take her out first a course."

Llars found himself sniggering at her comment. "That you are female and a warrior confuses me." Sten intoned. "You are either a woman or your are a warrior. You cannot be both."

"Trust me. My sister used ta say the same thing. Though she whored herself out to the highest bidders so I didn't care much for her opinion. Just got on with what I do." Una shrugged. "Ancestors arse I miss that girl. Protected each other we did - me from being a whore and her from having to kill things to survive."

He contemplated the woman's words. "There was nothing you could change about your situation?"

"Nope!" She popped the 'p'. "Us casteless get treated like scum and nothing changes. Would'a been nice a course but I ain't there any more. I bet you a lot a casteless dwarva would've fought tooth and nail to be a Grey Warden. Lucky me got conscripted."

"What is meant by 'casteless'?" Llars asked. He had not known the durgen'len would treat others cruelly within their own race. The blonde one that sneered at the sky and the bald one that was already a Grey Warden were very selective of whom they spoke kindly to - he had not been one of those privileged.

Una then went on to explain the branding on her cheek. A physical form of classification that the dwarves placed on those they considered criminal or of criminal stock. The dwarves put a lot of faith into their own ancestors and to have criminals in your own line would make your own life worthless.

It sickened him. He had thought the durgen'len would have banded together. "S'not so different to how you think of Lindra and Daniel though is it?" She finished.

That shocked him and he stayed silent thinking about what she had said. They were elven but not elvhen. Was it their fault as to where they were born? Or that neither seemed to bear anything toward his clan - and that is why he shunned their easily given friendship?

He was silent still when the two other elves and Rose relieved them of watch in the early hours of the morning. He gazed up at the pinpricks of light in the inky black sky. Creators... what would his clan have thought on this?

* * *

Lindra noted that Llars had pursed his lips at her when she bid him good night. There wasn't the heat in his grey eyes that filled the air with hatred but he looked troubled. The Qunari still gave her the creeps and Una had smiled at her before she'd clambered into her tent with the brown ribbon. The grey mabari followed the Dalish elf into the green ribboned tent and silence surrounded them as the three of them settled into their watch shift.

"Tea?" The blue-blood asked. Both she and Daniel nodded the affirmative and the woman busied herself with a rolled cigarette in the corner of her mouth with heating water over the embers of the fire with the packets of herbal tea. The smoke reminded her of the pipe her father would allow himself at Satinalia. It was not as pungent but it was comforting.

"You look too young to have white hair." She commented as she settled on the log bench, brushing her loose black hair back - her ribbon was on her tent for tonight, so she knew which was her own. It was odd how she'd woken so abruptly last night - sweating cold and having thrashed her bedroll of until she was sticky with dusty mud on her sweated skin.

"For a mundane I am." Daniel snorted. "But powerful mages go prematurely white. I've had white hair since I was two." That shocked her. She watched him take a sip of the warmed tea, the steam of it clouding over his pale tattooed face. Everything about the fellow elf was pale. Rose passed her her own mug and she sipped it - still watching him. "You know if you stare you get sucked into an intense wave of magic until you're writhing in pain."

"That's not true." She smiled. "But you're powerful then."

"You saw me blow up a few hurlocks did you not? Spirit magic is one of the most difficult and I excel in it." He chuckled and blew a cooling breath over his tea. "I wanted to learn Galvanism too - like Warden Caron. But the templars thought I was a natural in Arcanism too so I got shoved in Xavier's class."

"You learnt magic alongside a shem?" She furrowed her brow. Didn't know that mages weren't separated in their tower.

"I learnt from a shem as you call him. Xavier was my Arcanism tutor. He's alright - a bit eccentric but not too daft." Lindra took a gulp of her tea, swallowing a bit of the tea leaves that had settled into the bottom of her mug. She made a face as the bitterness lingered. "If we're both going to the tower I might introduce you to this hypocrite of a mage. She cares nowt for our freedom. Then again - Senior Enchanters get privileges us lower mages don't get."

"Freedom for elves means living in an Alienage or with the Dalish." Lindra sighed. "Sometimes I used to wish I had magic and could get given a proper bed in one of those towers you mages live in."

"You don't wish to have magic." He clenched his jaw and Lindra felt a rippling tingle run through her. "Templars watch you every second in case you turn to blood magic, I'm talking about them standing outside the privy and when you're bathing too. It's - not an easy life."

"I didn't mean-" Lindra started before she was cut off.

"I know you didn't. I just wanted to see that you understood what a stupid thing you said." Daniel shrugged. "So the Alienage? A bed of eiderdown and sunshine I guess from your previous tone."

"As you put it. Where are you from?" Lindra found herself asking. Her life in the Alienage could wait for later. She wanted to know more about this mage.

"No clue. I manifested magic before I could even speak. I got taken to the tower and they named me after a dead templar and gave me one of the default surnames for elven mages. All us Surana's pretended we were family in a way. There was a girl called Vera Surana who used to play so many pranks on the templars that she got put in solitary for a week because of it." He shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"So you never knew your family?" Their leader asked, putting her mug down and stroking her mabari in his sleep at her ankles.

"No - and to have given up a baby boy without a name or anything makes me glad." He clenched his jaw again and drained his mug of tea. "Could I have another mug?"

Lindra couldn't imagine her mother or father having given her up because she had magic. Her mother had died a few years ago of course but still... that sounded cruel beyond her imagination. To be a scared young elf and taken somewhere she didn't know what would happen to her there. It reaffirmed the belief in her head that the Maker was a cruel bastard.

If He sought to hurt people like Daniel and herself for circumstances of birth? The Maker turned His gaze from the elves a long time ago, but He turned it away from mages too. It... made her wonder if anyone other than shems ever got a good slice in life?


	9. Allies

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: T for language.

(Author note: Yes you get one! AU because there is not enough time for Teagan to go to Denerim and back with information in time for Rose etc to reach Redcliffe and not enough time for Jowan to poison Eamon. Don't worry - there will be political machinations of the murdery kind and I hate the Urn of Sacred Ashes questline - completely stupid for the Warden to attempt in the middle of the Blight regardless of companions that could do things. It could take YEARS if the urn is real to find it. Needless to say - I've created a moral dilemma in place of it. Enjoy.

Heavy reliance on in-game dialogue for the Broken Circle however - I admit my Greagoir is not a realistic one so to keep it in high quality I used his actual dialogue a lot. I'm not ashamed. I did make some changes so :P)

* * *

They'd split into the two groups they'd planned on day four of travelling. Llars felt a strange sense of burden upon his shoulders when Rose had bid him farewell - with instructions that she would await his return to her in the shemlen Arling of Redcliffe.

Lindra - because he had felt some sense of regret in continually calling her seth'lin - was riding the horse known as Pale, chatting to Daniel about his life in the circle. The templar and delusional bard were also talking.

Which left him with the only good conversationalist, Da'fen walked by his side, the stub of his grey tail wagging when he would idly scratch at his ears. "Yes - to the place the templars take our Keepers." He murmured to the animal. "No - I should not think rescuing ones we know would be possible. We might conscript them yes. But would you knowingly send one of the clan to their death needlessly?"

"Talking to a mabari is the first sign of madness. But... out of curiosity - what were you talking about?" He glared up at the templar.

"How your kind take our leaders and force them into slavery in these circles if they are not slaughtered first." He replied with a non-committal shrug. He didn't wish to speak to the man. Ever since his outburst on the Imperial Highway over the death of two men - one of which he'd not met and the other he'd only briefly known... he had irked the Dalish elf.

It had irked him further to know that this Alistair had only known this Duncan for six months. He'd seen da'len not weep and mope so when a loved one was slain. They mourned but it was respectful and honoured the fallen clansman. It was not this chaotic loss of all sensibilities he had seen. This shemlen was supposedly the Senior Grey Warden of the whole of them and not once but twice he had bowed to the whims and will of more junior members of the order that did not know as much as he on their new-found predicament.

The shock of the darkspawn dreams, the images of the Banalhan projected into his mind for brief periods near on most nights. That would have been a key thing to know. It had been so selfish of the shemlen not to have pre-warned them before sleep that first night after being rescued from the Tower of Ishal. It had devalued the man even more so in his mind.

Thankfully - said shemlen had decided against continuing their conversation. He was glad of the silence. That is - until Daniel had decided to move away from Lindra and speak to him.

"You'll tell the templars to fuck off right? If they try to take me back in there?" Llars observed the almost out of character way that the fellow elf was nervous.

"There should be slavery for none of our kind da'lethallin. The templars will have no power over you." He was shocked at himself for having called the younger elf his cousin - as if clanmates. But the oddly pale elf had been slowly worming his irreverent nature into his mind.

"You say that but wouldn't anyone give up a mage for the reward money?" He stopped the both of them in their tracks.

"The Dalish are nomadic to protect their Keepers from the gaze of the templars. We are lead by mages such as yourself." Llars stared right at Daniel's pale blue eyes, willing the mage to believe his truth. "Should you have been born Dalish the entire clan would have relied on your wisdom when your ascension from First to Keeper occurred. The gift of magic is precious to the elvhenan."

"You speak of a world I have dreamed of." Daniel replied. "When we go to the Dalish to get their support on the treaty I _have_ to be there."

"You will da'lethallin." He nodded. "Let us continue - if we are to stop the Banalhan and this civil war we must make haste."

"Thank you." Llars smiled for what was most probably the first time that it was genuine and not at a jest since he had left the Sabrae clan.

* * *

Rose watched carefully as Xavier rode Derek. He was still very new to riding a horse and without continued tutelage he was worried about harming the animal. It reminded her of the first time she'd ever ridden the way he would almost constantly stroke Derek's mane to assure the horse.

And Derek was loving the attentions. You couldn't ask for a better horse to learn how to ride on.

They came into the Arling of Redcliffe only three days after they had split up and Rose looked down the brick-red cliffs that the Arling was so named for at the houses with their smoking chimneys and the ringing of the Chantry bell near the banks of Lake Calenhad. The day was clear and she could make out the outline of the tower of magi - Kinloch Hold - in the distance.

"I see no reason as to why we have come upon this squat pile of dwellings. You yourself Warden have said this Arl Eamon is as trustworthy as far as you could heft him. Why have we come here?" Rose regarded Morrigan's question.

"Because he is the most powerful political ally we can get that is both closest to Ostagar and still with troops of his men." Rose replied. "If you are unwilling to do as I command then you are free to return to your mother."

"I will not return to that insufferable hag after she had booted me from her hut like a piece of refuse so easily disposed of." Morrigan narrowed her eyes at the leading Warden. "I shall watch how you play this political game."

"It's what I do. I was the daughter of the most powerful Teryn in this country and so taught how to manoeuvre the festering wound that is politics." She grinned. This would be the start to the end of the civil war as she could see it. Less innocent Ferelden blood would be spilt in the manifestations of power-hungry bastards that would tear her country apart and so weaken her while she was in danger of being overcome by a Blight.

It would be providence that Arl Eamon would listen to her when she explained the quagmire of deaths that had happened so shortly. News could be slow to travel.

* * *

Upon issuing the guardsman at the castle of Redcliffe a formal demand to have audience with the Arl, Rose saw to it that Derek and Aegis were taken to the stables and kennels before she and her fellow Wardens were brought into the receiving room.

The ceilings were high vaulted and the tapestries upon the walls fine - and of Orlesian make. The telltale sign being that all horses depicted were without their genitalia. Mares and nags were not used in warfare, only colts and stallions. The Orlesians believed it gratuitous to depict such truths.

Rose straightened out her back as the Arl was announced into the room before hers and her companions names were read as wrote in greeting. "Please - be seated." The old Arl displayed an open palm to the desk that had two chairs facing each other either side.

She sat carefully with the unwavering poise taught her and never lost sight of his movements. A servant put a glass decanter of wine on his desk and a goblet and glass both impeccably clean. She watched the way he poured the red wine into his goblet and offered her a glass herself - which she declined. She sensed Una and Xavier stand behind where she was seated in flank and so assumed that Sten and Morrigan were going to be playing their part also in demanding the attentions of the man. Sten and Una were both imposing warrior figures and everyone was in their armour or robes.

He reclined in his chair and watched her also before he cleared his throat. "It is not everyday that I receive the daughter of Bryce Cousland in my humble castle." He started. "I was informed that this is an urgent matter?"

"Indeed." Rose squared her shoulders again, the weight of her shoulder-guard seemingly bothersome to him. He must believe she is with imperfections while still remaining a powerful figure in his eyes. Humanization. It was needed. "No doubt you have learnt by now of the slaughter that has happened in the north regarding my family?"

"News has been slow. Would you care to explain yourself?" He tilted his head some, his right hand resting on his chin and tucking his long beard into his palm. A cool indifference should he not plan to listen to her point of calling him.

"Arl Howe of Amaranthine, my lord, has turned coat to the house of Cousland. His son Thomas personally having slit the throat of my lady mother and his soldiers poisoning my father with a dagger, raping my sister-by-law Oriana while her son, my nephew was bound on the bed next to her until he too had his throat slit. I have explained myself." Righteous fury burned within her at every word she uttered in her retelling of the slaughter of her family and Rose kept herself poised as it was demanded. "The King was slain by the horde of darkspawn at Ostagar and both Arl Urien Kendalls and his son are with the Maker. Three positions of power in this country are vacant and like vultures other nobles once wind has been caught of this will descend. There will be civil war and I seek to end this now."

"You seem knowledgeable on these events." He mused, the graphic detailing ignored and he reached forward for his goblet of wine. "What is it you propose that you cannot do yourself my Teryna." He took in a deep breath before swallowing a mouthful of his wine. Rose stiffened at his assumed calling of her by the title.

"My lord brother is missing and I have sent the man I have chosen as my heir in search of him. However; it is not proper to address me as Teryna. I am a Grey Warden."

Arl Eamon seemed to take notice of that mentioning more so. "As far as I was aware the Grey Wardens were at Ostagar themselves were they not?"

"They were and our number has dwindled to a scant seven including myself. I am the acting Warden Commander." Rose placed her hands in her lap and watched as the aged Arl seemed to mull this information over.

"Your plan for this civil war? My troops are few in number to combat the nobility that will feud over the titles to be gained." Rose smiled to herself. She had his support for what she had decided then. She had no allusions of fighting in the civil war - she would end it as peaceably as possible.

"I propose a Landsmeet. We shall settle the matter of inheritance for the positions lost to those most capable via vote. If they have family ties to such families lost it will be most fortuitous but not essential. I understand as uncle to the late King you would know of any bastards the King may have conceived of." It was no secret that Calian was not faithful to his wife Anora. He was also more a figure head, his wife taking the political leadership demanded of the throne.

Realization dawned on Rose that moment. How had she overlooked such a thing? Anora! Anora Mac Tir - daughter of Teryn Loghain Mac Tir! Maker's teeth... there could be some sort of reason other than saving the troops that Loghain failed to charge his eastern flank. It would have been a clumsy way of killing his son-in-law. The darkspawn could not be relied upon to kill a certain person. But... "There may be a bastard out there actually. But not of who you suspect if you do not know. Tell me - you said seven Wardens including yourself survived. Do your travel with a Warden by the name of Alistair?"

Rose's brow furrowed and she did not ease that wrinkle as she tried to comprehend the words of the Arl. "Unfortunately so. He is currently under command of my second in command and travelling to the circle of magi to gain our allies there against the Blight." She answered slowly.

"He has not told you?" Eamon was playing a card close to his chest here. "Let me explain Warden Cousland. King Maric asked of me a long time ago to look after a child he bore to a serving girl here in Redcliffe. A bastard child after the death of my late sister Queen Rowan. Unfortunately, my lady wife Isolde believed I to have begot the child and so he was sent to the Chantry."

"What bearing has this on one of my Wardens my lord?" Rose asked when the Arl paused for breath. Did Alistair know of a bastard child borne to the late King Maric? She would definitely poison him for withholding such information from her. The political machinations were boggling within her mind. How many people knew of this child?

"Alistair is that child." The Arl finished. "He is the sole heir to the Theirin dynasty."

Rose stilled in her seat. That utter bastard hadn't told her such a vital piece of information. This could be the key that she needed on the matter of inheritance on the throne of course. She was hoping to have her brother alive or Roland to inherit the Highever Terynir. She hadn't thought much on the Denerim Arling but she would evaluate the peoples that were present to judge worthiness of such a title. "I am... concerned that he had not told me." She finally spoke. "If we could convene in an hour's time when I have thought over this matter. I need to understand this better and need the time to think. If I could be excused to your study my lord?"

"As you wish." He nodded. Rose stood and motioned for Xavier, Morrigan, Una and Sten to follow her into the adjoining study and she shut the door.

* * *

"That utter royal bastard!" She hissed under her breath and she leaned heavily onto the desk in the room, clenching her teeth and wishing she could rip a certain bastard prince's head from his shoulders and spit into it.

Una put a hand on Rose's and rubbed her leather covered knuckles. "S'okay salroka. You were amazing in there - I nearly thought you'd have a fit when he got all cold and shit over what happened to you and then threw that thing about Alistair at you."

"Thank you." Rose answered the dwarf. She was glad she'd managed to keep her head on during that whole meeting.

"I have an issue to raise." Xavier took a deep breath. "I recognised one of his servants that gave him the wine decanter before the Arl poured it himself. And... he's a mage - did you get a good look of him?"

Rose stood up and leant back on the desk, crossing her arms under her breasts. "And this matters how? If the Arl wishes an apostate to work for him I say let him."

"You don't get it my dear. He escaped Kinloch not long ago." Xavier continued.

"This twit will fuss around the subject. The man is a blood mage - any mage can sense the demonic presence surrounding him. There is something foul afoot here." Morrigan snapped. Rose regarded that information.

"Like the darkspawn mages? They are... powerful opponents. Would it be in our best interests to apprehend this mage? Or... conscript him into our ranks? Give the darkspawn a taste of their own medicine?" A self satisfied smirk covered her face. "Not only will we be removing a threat to the Arl, we gain more fire-power against the darkspawn. The Arl would be in our debt."

"You think we can trust a rogue Saarebas?" Sten intoned. "I had thought to trust your opinion but I disapprove of this choice. Apprehend this mage and turn him over to those keepers of him."

"What do the Qunari say of mages?" Rose asked. "Surely they have them?"

"We do. We collar them and sew their mouths shut so they may not spew demonic filth. Humans would learn to follow this example when dealing with such dangers." He crossed his arms and looked down at her. Rose straightened out. Morrigan and Xavier glared at the Qunari kossith.

"Who better to watch over this dangerous mage than Grey Wardens? We could use his Maker given talents against the Blight." Rose countered. "What would the templars do to a blood mage? The Chant of Light is vague in 'all magic is evil' so I have only an observation on what the darkspawn do - they tend to attack so we just killed the emissary we encountered." Rose turned to the two mages present.

"They would kill him." Xavier answered in a flat monotone. "The best chance he has at life is if they make him Tranquil. In doing so his magic is removed but he loses every emotion. It is a life of less than a husk of a body - function with nothing else." He shuddered at the thought of it and Rose took in a deep breath.

"We conscript this mage then. Should he be found out his future is a bleak one." Rose got up from the desk. "I have an idea on the issue of the throne also. If anyone wishes to disagree with me there will be consequences."

"Not gonna disagree o mighty leader." Una smirked. "This has been one Void of a sodding view into noble life though. Think this Arl Eamon'll let me have some of that wine? Looked tasty." Suddenly a scream put the Warden group on edge before Rose could respond to the dwarf and they rushed out of the study.

* * *

Arl Eamon was slumped into his desk, bloody spittle on his lips and his Orlesian wife was sobbing. Maker's teeth what had happened?

"Maker no! You cannot have done this to me! Not so many hardships can be faced by one woman!" The Orlesian woman sobbed, her pronounced lilting accent grating on Rose. She held back everyone at the door jamb and Xavier whispered to her when he noticed the apparent blood mage in the corner of the room - looking very shocked.

"Arlessa Isolde?" Rose strode into the room. "What's happening?"

"Do I know you?" She looked down her nose at her and Rose had to fight the urge to grab that nose and twist it broken. The woman was still glowering at her between heaving breaths.

"I am Rose Cousland. Acting Commander of the Grey Wardens. I came here to gain the aide of your husband against the civil war in the north and the Blight. I repeat - what happened?" She took in a deep breath through her nose and a sudden scent of something acrid hit her nose and she wrinkled it against the smell.

"He!" She looked down at her husband. "My husband... I believe him to have been poisoned!" Then Rose noticed his goblet of wine was still in his hand, the wine emptied onto the carpeted floor.

"Observant." Rose stepped over the wine and put a finger under Eamon's chin to his wrinkled neck. "Eamon lives. If I could have a kerchief to soak up some wine so I can figure out which poison was used? Then I can ascertain when he will wake and if there will be lasting effects to him. Most poisons should they not kill have a limited time before cleansed naturally by the body."

"I take back that comment about tasty looking wine." Una muttered.

She kept the detached mask on as she called mopped the edge of the handkerchief in the spilled wine and put it into a clean glass. She was glad she hadn't drunk the wine. That was fortuitous. She was sure that Llars would have taken a good command over their treaties for the Blight but none of her Wardens would be able to dance the dance of politics.

It reminded Rose of herself in a way when Isolde let her take control of the situation. The way Roland had applied a health poultice to the gash on her right thigh as she remained numb to the world. For all they knew now - Arl Eamon would die shortly and the woman was helpless against it. "Xavier - could you please see to the matter we discussed regarding a recruit in the study while I figure this poison."

Xavier stepped forward without a word and went to the man - thin and unassuming with shoulder length black hair and a face that looked to be permanently sad. "I know you... you were Daniel's friend weren't you? Jowan Levyn..."

"I didn't do anything!" His eyes went wide and Rose held the cut crystal glass under her nose to smell it closer, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You obviously did. Did you... do this mage?" He tried to back into the corner further but Xavier kept a firm grip on his arm. "Mage - did you poison Arl Eamon?"

"How did you know he was a mage?" Isolde gasped. Rose turned her gaze to the Orlesian.

"I have mages in my Wardens and they could sense his magic. Regardless, you knew what this man was? What incensed you to hire a mage into your staff?" This was getting confusing.

Isolde broke down onto the floor. "This is all my fault! I just wanted to protect my son! Maker please forgive my mistakes!"

"Make sense now!" Rose demanded. "I want an explanation from everyone present!" The room fell into silence. "Orlesian - I want you to begin now. Tell me what happened."

* * *

Rose remained impassive throughout her sobbing of how her son Connor was in fact a mage. She encountered Jowan Levyn bloodied and bewildered in his escape from Kinloch Hold when she was sobbing on her misfortunes to have a mage son.

At some point she found out he was a mage and saw the end to her troubles. Jowan would teach Connor how to control his magic and in return she wouldn't turn him into the templars.

This is when Jowan stepped in. Apparently Teryn Loghain had stopped off at the castle - he told this Jowan who he was. Teryn Loghain apparently wished Arl Eamon 'dealt with' and gave him a vial of poison. An anonymous assassin wouldn't tell their name.

It confused Rose immensely. It was a messy way of trying to orchestrate an assassination. Entrusting a man he barely knew to kill someone with a poison the man was not familiar with. She was also sure that of the Guerrin family - Isolde would be the one Fereldens would be more keen to poison. "Did Teryn Loghain pass through Redcliffe Arlessa?" Rose questioned at the end of it.

"I did not see him. I would have thought he would have his armies no, if he were returning from Ostagar?" Rose agreed. It was odd. Very odd.

"Do you have the poison on you at this moment Jowan?" Rose put her hand out and Jowan stepped forward and handed her a plain tubular vial corked with an iridescent yellow liquid within. "Did any people pass through Redcliffe since you hired this apostate into your staff Arlessa?"

"None I can think of?" She attempted and raked a hand through her elaborately styled honey blonde hair. "My husband could be dying at this moment and you have no care for it!"

"This poison in my hand." Rose stated calmly. "Is called Andraste's Mercy. It is not fatal in the dosage given. This whole vial would constitute death but only a quarter has been drunk. Your husband is in a coma." There wasn't any other poison that was such a vivid yellow and she uncorked it and took a testing sniff to be sure, the wine Eamon had drunk covered it's acrid smell remarkably well. "It is definitely Andraste's Mercy."

"I know about that salroka!" Una chipped in suddenly. "I were asked to put in this guy's drink once for the Carta. Made the same novice mistake as this sparklefingers too. The victim of the poison will live... but he'll not wake up again. He can't eat - drink or go to the privy on his own now. If you want him to live he'll need round the day and night care. The poison'll be in his blood now and it's very long lasting - most people die before they naturally fight it off."

Rose nodded at the summation of the poison's effects. "Nothing will cure him?" Isolde's eyes watered and she rushed to Eamon's side. "Nothing at all?"

"I'm a Spirit Healer milady." Xavier stepped forward. "I know a great deal on curing maladies. This poison... might take a more illegal approach to cure."

"What do you mean?" Isolde looked at the mage and he gestured at Jowan.

"Blood magic. His blood needs to be cleansed of the poison and that requires stilling his heart so the poison cannot have more effect while we work - sustaining his life-force and then washing the blood in a way with the magic of a demon before re-starting the heart. It may not work... but it is his only chance." Xavier bowed his head.

"Is there a way his chances will improve?" The Arlessa stroked Arl Eamon's long greyed hair lovingly. "He cannot die to my mistake!"

"There's one way." Jowan took a deep breath. "The blood of another could be used to sustain his life-force... but it would take all of that person's blood. One life for another."

"Then let that be me." Isolde declared.

This was when Rose stepped in again. "No. We attempt this blood magic thing without sacrificing a life. You son will require a mother if his father falls regardless - this would only increase his chances - not for certain assure his life." She took in a deep breath. "The mages here will attempt this blood magic thing. If Sten and Una could escort Arlessa Isolde outside?"

How did she get to this point in her life that she felt so numb? Maker's teeth she wished things were easy. But who knows what would have happened if she wasn't here when this happened? She was thankful Sten had remained silent over his views on magic. She was sure this wouldn't gain any points with the Qunari but what other option was there?

Arl Eamon was needed for her to declare a Landsmeet and he needed to survive this or she'd be another noble down in stopping the civil war. It was necessary. _We are all pawns_. She heard Cari's voice again and she nodded to herself. She was merely a pawn and so were the people whose lives she was affecting. Maker give her the strength to do something if Eamon did not survive this.

* * *

Llars looked up at the tower of magi. Kinloch Hold. Such a building was so imposing even in the centre of Lake Calenhad. "Can't you just smell the oppression!" Daniel smirked.

Llars rolled his eyes and continued to stare at the orange sky, the clouds both white and orange striping the sky across and giving the needle-like structure an almost black colour. It did certainly have an oppressive aura about it. Even the small hovels on the dockside looked huddled away from the stone structure, as if trying to hide from it. It gave him chills to be in such a place.

"Anyone else get this oooh foreboding feeling about being here?" The templar... Llars narrowed his eyes at the shemlen in splintnail armour.

"Come to mention it - and I hate to say a templar got anything right. Something feels off about the Veil. Like - it's ripped nearby and demons want to eat my soul." Daniel shuddered. "I thought only mages felt the veil?"

"Or children of mages." Llars answered. "My father was a mage - Keeper of my clan before he died. I sense something odd here too."

"Maybe it's one of these scary templar talents I have?" The templar snorted.

"Or maybe you're a latent mage." Daniel shook his head. "What a reversal of roles - from templar to mage in one flash of fire!"

"What a tale!" The delusional shemlen gasped. "I can hear the great bards singing the tragic tale of a man long searching for purpose who becomes a templar - only to get angry one day and manifest magic! It is most delicious."

"You need to get out more." Daniel snarked.

"Come - this tower will not give us the Blight troops without us getting to it." Llars put a hand flippantly in the air.

"Are you worried Daniel?" Lindra smiled at the elven mage. Llars rolled his eyes. The rogue had a soft spot for making people better. In a fight against a nest of giant spiders they encountered yesterday she double checked everyone had applied their venom counters and had drunk health potions to mend any scrapes.

"A little. I'm feeling less free just being here. I say we get this over and done with." He shrugged. "Come on. Greatest mage of his generation is getting bored of waiting around."

* * *

Daniel could remember that first step onto the dockside of Lake Calenhad, that smell of mud and wet dog that filled him for the first time in the life he could remember. Now he was returning to Kinloch Hold. It gave him a foreboding feeling of losing this newly found freedom. No wonder Anders kept on escaping.

He shook his head to rid thoughts of the fellow mage laughing with him and Jowan in the apprentice dormitories. Truth be told he missed that family he'd made, the other Surana children all banding together and pretending they were actually related, the pranks they'd play on the new templar recruits. Stealing higher level books from the library and using a glowing runestone to read them under the covers at night with a nicked snack from the kitchens.

It was vastly different from his life now. Combating darkspawn. Almost poetic seeing as the Chantry view was that mages had created darkspawn. "Where's Kester?" He questioned as they walked down the sloping verge to the jetty. The elder ferryman was a persnickety old codger with a habit of dawdling with his boat in reverence of the old barge. He recognised the lone figure guarding the end of the jetty though.

Carroll... templar prig and someone who Llars might just throw into the lake waters. He could live with that. "Oh look - it's you." The prig snorted as they approached. "Knight-Commander ain't letting any across to the tower at the moment so you can't cross."

"Explain yourself now shemlen." Llars glared at him. Daniel could see a splash of silvery armour in the lake soon.

"Something happened over there and I was told no-body across. Now hop it." Llars glowered and hooked a hand into the man's chestplate, pushing him into an awkward angle over the jetty.

"If I let go you sink into these filthy waters shemlen." Llars hissed. "I am a Grey Warden and need the mages against the Blight."

"And I'm the ruddy Queen of Antiva - prove it." Carroll jabbed back. Bad move. Llars lowered him further over the lake and feigned dropping him.

"Allow me your boat to go to the tower and you live. I am not above killing shemlen for being obstinate." The Dalish elf grinned manically. "And trust me - my patience is wearing thin."

"I'll take you across! Maker's blood just don't drop me! There's all sorts of weird magical creatures in there that'll eat me!" Llars brought the man up and he glowered at him the whole time as he untied the barge from the jetty.

"Delusional shemlen. You will stay here with the horse." Llars ordered Leliana and the archer deflated at not going to gawp and gasp at the slavery found within the circle.

The whole group piled onto the barge, the mabari licking his master's hand and whining about the shaky ground. Lake Calenhad wasn't known for languid waters. He really had a bad feeling about this. Kester wouldn't have given his barge up to anyone. Especially someone like Carroll. Something wasn't right about coming here.

* * *

Lindra gasped and panted, holding onto the wooden posts of the jetty once they were on the island in the middle of the lake. Maker... she'd never been on a boat and never wanted to again. Her heart felt like it was beating in her throat and her stomach had replaced her lungs for the burning acid should could almost feel there. She idly swung her pack of poisons and potions round and sought out a weak elfroot capsule. She shook one out of the stained brown bottle and recorked it before putting the bottle back in her pack and the capsule in her mouth.

It melted upon contact with the saliva in her mouth, instantly soothing the sickness she felt. No-one else seemed to have the same queasiness. Daniel and Llars looked uneasy but not sick and Alistair was just staring up at the beige sandstone of the tower.

She watched as the templar that Daniel had been narrowing his eyes at during the entire barge trip opened the great wooden doors at the base of the tower and ushered them into a very plain porch.

The smell of incense and blood assaulted her nose. Both smells were unmistakeable. The soapy smoke of incense would drift from the Denerim Chantry every day during sermon and blood was something she had recently become accustomed to smelling. The templars that had ferried the barge slipped back out and Llars pushed the doors into what looked more like a foyer open.

Men in heavy armour like the templar - more templars were in various states of distress and paralysed bodies - apparently alive for the sweat that still came off them in rivulets. The rest were running around like headless chickens or agitated bluebottle flies. "Maker's breath - what's happened here?" Their resident templar breathed.

"We are to find out shemlen." Llars responded. "Who is in charge of this?" The Dalish elf shouted into the foyer of sorts.

"And I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times. Do not open the doors without my express consent - is that clear?" Lindra squinted at the shem giving an order to another. Seems they'd found him without too much difficulty. He was a greyed shem, cropped hair and a sword and shield on his back, his templar armour more elaborate and protective than the other ones she'd seen.

"Yes Ser!" The helmet wearing shem the first one had spoken to saluted and went to relay the order.

"The doors are barred - are they keeping people out? Or in?" Their own templar shem said. _Very observant_. Lindra could have figured that herself without that aside.

"Now we wait and pray." The greyed templar shem turned to them.

"Are you the shemlen templar in charge here?" Llars spoke, having snorted when the shem had said 'pray'.

"I am the Knight-Commander, Greagoir. We are dealing with a very delicate situation. _You_ must leave for your own safety." He pointedly spoke at their current leader. Would the blue-blood have allowed him to make demands of her? Llars seemed to stiffen at his words.

"No. The mages have an obligation to the Grey Wardens and I intend to get their support against the Blight. Daniel - if you would pass me the treaty?" The fellow elf put a hand into his thin leather satchel and pulled out the scrolled vellum treaty.

"And what are you doing back here?" This Knight-Commander Greagoir squinted at Daniel. "I had thought once you joined the Grey Wardens you would have deigned to ever return."

"He is under my jurisdiction shemlen. Leave my Warden mage alone." Llars snarled. Lindra raised her eyebrows. She'd never seen Llars so protective of them before. "Now this treaty says the mages are honour bound to fight the darkspawn. Pledge their allegiance to us."

"I am weary of the Grey Wardens ceaselessly demanding men to fight the darkspawn - but it is your right." The Knight-Commander intoned with a sigh. "But you shall find no allies here. The templars can spare no men and the mages are... indisposed." He turned from them and with heavy clattering steps walked towards heavily barred doors. "I shall speak plainly; Kinloch Hold is no-longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk these halls." He walked back to them. "The circle is lost. This tower has fallen."

Llars seemed to be at a loss for words, as was Daniel so Lindra stepped up, puffing her chest a little to seem more imposing. She was thin and scraggly even for an elf, she knew this. But she would not let this shem scare them. "How did this happen?" She asked. The shem looked at her as if only having seen her for the first time.

"We don't know. We saw only demons hunting templars and mages alike. I realised we could not defeat them and told my men to flee." He answered. Lindra stilled also at that. They'd fled at Ostagar for the same reasoning - they could not defeat the horde. It resonated in her the same sense of defeat that seemed to be in this shem's words and demeanour.

"In the event of a Dalish Keeper succumbing to demonic influence the clan is forced to slay their own Keeper." Llars said, his lyrical accent so heartfelt and sad that she wished she could comfort him. "What can we do to help? This cannot be allowed to continue - abominations and demons will overwhelm this tower given time and Ferelden will be over-run by an army of them."

"They took us by surprise Warden. We were prepared for one or two abominations, not the horde that fell upon us." His mouth twisted into a frown. The word horde struck her with that dread of the darkspawn horde. They had been endless - death and destruction brought to life, killing without rhyme or reason. The would take any victim and it was luck only that they had not lost their lives in that battle.

"Why not rally the blasted templars and kill everyone then? Isn't that what you do?" Daniel growled. Lindra looked over at his pale face, his normally serene features almost filled with venom and his sky-blue eyes crackling with anger. She'd not ever been afraid of him and she still wasn't - but such an expression on his face made her feel insecure around him.

"I would destroy the tower - raze it to the ground." The Greagoir shem responded with equal venom. "But I will not risk more of my men. The doors remain shut and they will protect us for now." His tone became melancholic. Lindra could see that same expression on his face that their blue-blood leader had when someone spoke of the Highever men lost at Ostagar. She was torn between feeling some sort of empathy for this shem and of course for Daniel. This had been his home no matter how horrid it had been. The other Surana's were still here - the people he considered family and friends.

"You shut everyone in there? Including those innocent of wrongs?" Daniel glared. "As I am sure you are aware of magical talent - I can feel the tear in the veil. A mage would have done this but there are innocents!"

"It is not just mages but my templars also. I had no choice, the abominations must be contained at all costs. We do not mean for the doors to remain closed forever. The only solution is for everything in the tower to be eliminated. I have sent word to Denerim for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment."

Daniel drew in a sharp breath and seemed to be sweating profusely. "You cannot do this!" He exclaimed. "We can defeat the abominations and demons. We defeat the darkspawn do we not? Innocent mages should not lose their lives to this!"

"What is this Right of Annulment shemlen?" Llars put a hand out to silence the elven mage.

"The Right of Annulment gives us templars the right to neutralise the mage circle - completely." The Greagoir shem's eyes hardened.

"The mages are most probably dead. Any abominations left there must be dealt with no matter what." Their resident templar shem Alistair spoke, he sounded sorry for saying it but that didn't seem to matter to Daniel for the clenched jaw and low growl the mage gave him.

"This situation is dire. There is no alternative. Everything in that tower must be destroyed so that it may be made safe again." The Greagoir shem said with a tone of finality.

"Not all mages turn to blood magic and demons! We're powerful enough to fend them off and live! Some mages MUST survive!" Daniel heatedly spoke, not raising his voice but the threat threaded underneath was obvious. It was 'This Right of Annulment goes ahead over my dead body'.

"If any are still alive, the Maker Himself has shielded them. No-one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It s too painful to hope for survivors and find..." His voice cracked and he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of the incense thick air. "Nothing."

"I'll look for survivors if I have to! I'll kill every demon and abomination in there to save them! You are not Annulling Kinloch Hold!" Daniel growled. "Who else is with me? Llars, Lindra - please. I'll even take the dog and templar if I have to. This isn't going ahead. I swear it!"

"I assure you all. An abomination is a force to be reckoned with and you will face more than one should you do this." The Greagoir shem looked pointedly at them all, as if sizing them up for how much wood she be on their pyres to properly burn them.

"Abominations cannot stand against the brightest fucking mage of his generation!" Daniel squinted, his tattooed cheeks rising up his face with the gesture. "We have one of the most powerful dual-wielders that cuts darkspawn like nothing into two halves, a rogue so sneaky she could kill someone and they wouldn't know until hours later. We can do this! Please!"

"You will find no survivors I am sure. But I would owe you much should you defeat the abominations within. Enough that I would pledge my templars to your cause Wardens. If Denerim will not respond to our own pleas I must determine our course - if that means allowing your group to attempt in saving this tower then so be it. Surely - destroying darkspawn is a worthy goal and one the templars could be able to do in place of the mages you have come here for?" Lindra felt herself agreeing. There was no point to have come here without garnering some allies. They would attempt this and either save the mages left alive - if they were left alive or they would gain the support and troops of the templars.

"We have an agreement then shemlen. We shall try to save those with the gift of magic but if none should survive as you believe - we will take the support of the templars." Llars put a hand to the pommel of his greatsword. "We shall all attempt this for the best chances at survival."

"Then a word of caution Warden." The Greagoir shem lead them all to the barred doors - which must lead them to the tower proper. "One you cross that threshold there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for none until I have proof that it is safe."

"And what proof would you have? The ashen remains of every abomination we slay?" Daniel asked flippantly.

"I will only believe it safe if a templar I have locked behind these doors or the First Enchanter himself assures me so." He responded tersely. Lindra tested her daggers with a _shhing_ in and out and adjusted her pack of poisons and potions.

"The mages take blue potions to keep up their power don't they?" Lindra asked - Xavier had said they used them for that purpose - their power wasn't endless. "You must have some for Daniel if we are to attempt this."

Greagoir wordlessly went to a great cabinet and unlocked it with a key from around his neck. Her eyes widened at the glittering array of bottles and vials filled with the shimmering blue liquid. He picked up a fairly large one and handed it to the pale mage. "Lyrium. Take only as required and return it to me when you are done." Daniel took it and put it into his satchel, leaving it open so he could heft it out when he could.

He motioned for the doors to be unlocked and the heavy bars removed. Lindra watched everyone preparing themselves for the battling that would be ahead. Da'fen at Llars' side stood staunch and proud as his master, the Dalish elf had his greatsword unsheathed and held it with one hand, the flat of it resting on his shoulder.

Their resident templar shem was strapping his shield to his arm and had a hand tentatively on the pommel of the sword at his hip.

Daniel was oddly calm, taking deep breaths of the incense filled air and his grip on his wooden staff never lessened. Lindra took in a deep breath and nervously _shhing'd_ her main hand dagger. "Andraste give you Her courage Wardens and may the Maker watch over you." The Knight-Commander bowed his head as the doors creaked rustily open and then closed behind the group as they passed through.

It didn't look like a bloodbath of demons and abominations (what exactly were they?) had come hunting mage and templar alike right here. The doors slammed behind them and locks scraped and the bars thudded into place. "I hope we know what we're doing." She whispered.

"Me too." Daniel closed his eyes. "The Veil is so thin. Whatever happened was catastrophic. If we defeat the demons and abominations the Veil will repair with each of their essences sent back into the Fade. Let's move."

"Yes." Llars nodded. "We cannot waste time when there may be allies to be saved."


	10. Blood

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: M for graphic blood magic and of course the usual language and violence/gore in battle.

* * *

Xavier took control over the magical preparations, he laid the Arl out on the floor and loosened the elder man's collar so his airway wouldn't get obstructed.

This would be a test of his Spirit Healing. The marsh witch pursed her lips. "I see no reason why we should entrust the life of this man you so obviously wish to use to a blood mage. Surely you can think of another way to get what you require."

"What other choice have we Morrigan?" Rose drawled from her place watching the scene. The witch bristled at not having an answer.

"I shall explain this fully now his wife is out of the room." Xavier started, a hand raking through his floppy rust-coloured hair. "This is speculation. This whole blood magic ritual. Jowan is correct that more blood would help... but it isn't necessary if I have this right."

He paused and looked down at the man they might just be killing. "Arl Eamon would need feeding, given fluids and his bowels and bladder emptied for over a year before his body could fully combat Andraste's Mercy." Rose put in. "We have no choice here."

"Right my dear. Well, the plan is as follows then. Using a Healing Aura I can block the signals of his nerves so he will feel nothing. He may be comatose but the Arl will still feel things. Using what is known as a Crushing Prison I can still his heart. Jowan will then have to work quickly. Do you remember that lecture Senior Enchanter Sweeney gave on Spirit Healing?"

"I believe so." Jowan nodded, his shoulder length black hair falling over his face and he put it back behind his ears. "I'll explain. Healing magic can only do so much, but a demon using the power of a life essence can restore things like bad memory, cure paralysis, age related eyesight and healing problems. Sweeney might have let that slip once when someone asked if healing was so powerful why was Sweeney near on blind right?"

"That was... Anders I think." Xavier smiled. "So going back to that point - demonic magic is powerful, using it we can isolate the fluids of the poison to say a finger - remove the limb and cauterise the wound before he bleeds out. By stopping the heart we stop the blood from moving the poison. Then... we need to restart the heart."

"How do you bring someone back from the dead?" Rose asked, her right eyebrow arching upwards.

"He will not be dead my dear. Not for five minutes. A human has about eight pints of blood, and blood contains the essence of life - those eight pints will sustain him for those five minutes. Enough that even when the heart stops and the lungs fail - magic and certain life saving techniques can save him. We need someone with magic who can shock his heart with lightning into starting again. I think Jowan here is the Galvanist?"

"I'm not very accomplished. They said I learned too slowly." Jowan hung his head. "I can do small pulses in regular intervals - you place one hand over the right pectoral muscle, the other just under the left ribcage."

"Wouldn't skin contact be best for this then?" Rose asked, shrugging her shoulders as if she wasn't sure if what she was saying was just getting in the way of the mages. "- if you plan on jolting someone back to life that is."

"It will restart his heart. The main problem is that throughout this whole ritual of sorts my dears - is that we may entice demons to the room through the Veil. This will weaken it enough. I ask that Morrigan and to a lesser extent - Rose, dealt with these as time will be precious. We must do this quickly."

"I shall defeat these demons. To use arrows in such a confined space invites mishaps to occur." Morrigan sniffled.

"Right. So we're going to do this?" Jowan asked hesitantly.

"We're righting a wrong." Xavier smiled weakly. "I just hope it works."

* * *

Rose watched as Xavier undid the wooden toggles of Eamon's doublet and the soft woollen clasps that held his shirt together. Once the Arl's chest was exposed to air Rose could see the mottled bruising on his torso as the poison had tried to work on destroying his organ function.

Both the mages knelt either side of him, their faces grim.

Maker's teeth - it was incredibly good timing on their part to have turned up when they did. Xavier put his hands over the Arl's head and his lips twitched as he mouthed the words of his spell - that Healing Aura.

Eamon's breath came in less heaved pants and evened out, the grey curls on his chest rising and falling with a small rasp through his open mouth. Xavier's eyebrows pinched together and he moved one hand over the left side of the Arl's breastbone and his hand twitched as if holding a ball tightly in his grasp.

Eamon groaned suddenly before his breathing stopped. Jowan took a regular looking kitchen knife, slightly blunted from use and brought it up to his hand, slitting a line across his palm. A brief flash of pain crossed his face before it returned neutral.

The blood seemed to pool on his hand and he picked up the Arl's lifeless arm at his side, making a tiny pinprick of blood bubble on his pinky finger. The feeling of being unable to breathe slammed around her lungs and the very air seemed thicker as she gulped the air back.

Rose watched as Jowan closed his eyes and brought the blood of Arl Eamon into contact with his own before bringing their two hands apart. The blood mage slumped while still kneeling and hissed his breath through a open mouth and gritted teeth.

"Now. The poison should be just in his little finger." Xavier spoke in a calm monotone, detached from the scene. Rose's breath stilled as she saw Jowan take the kitchen knife and neatly joint the pinky finger off at the knuckle.

Blood wept from the amputated digit, the heart not pumping the blood out and Xavier lit a flame in the hand that had stopped Eamon's heart. Jowan held Eamon's hand up and placed the wound over the flame.

The heady smell of burning flesh filled the room and Rose nearly gagged. She leaned forward to abate the sickness rising in her stomach when the feminine form seemed to appear in the room.

A tall creature, pouting dark purple lips, pale lilac skin with glowing yellow eyes that bore right into her soul. The beautiful creature floated toward her and she felt so entranced by the curve of it's hips, the sway of the reptilian tail and the purple flames that dance atop her hair that was styled almost like horns. "You are so needful of love. So many people lost to you." The sultry voice dripped and Rose gulped back. "You wish for this all to disappear, for life to return to how it was. I can make that so mortal."

Suddenly the beautiful creature was on it's knees, taloned hands clawing at it's perfect face. "You will not ensorcell any of us demon!" Morrigan screamed. The witch moved with purpose and placed a glowing orange hand to that now bleeding perfect face. The creature writhed in agony and Rose felt as if rooted to the spot to do anything when the creature vanished with an audible pop of her eardrums.

Rose shook herself. What had just happened? Her gaze drifted over to Jowan and Xavier leaning over Arl Eamon. Jowan had his right hand on the Arl's right pectoral muscle and his left just on the Arl's lowermost left rib.

The Arl arched upwards as a fizzing numb crackled in the room and he slumped. "Again." Xavier ordered, that glow of blue brightening over Eamon's head.

The Arl arched again with another burst of the fizzing numb and suddenly he was breathing again. Xavier lifted the Arl's left leg into a 'L' shape and tucked his now three-fingered hand under his neck and rolled the Arl onto his right side, facing toward the former Enchanter turned Grey Warden. He then moved the left leg of the Arl to it kept him in precarious balance there and the Arl vomited red and brown over the carpet.

Xavier stood and he helped Jowan up before the mage ran a blue glowing hand over the other mages slit palm, the cut suturing. Jowan wiped his hand of his blood down his britches. "It's done. The Arl should waken soon." Jowan hung his head again. "And I'm... most probably going to die now right?"

"Jowan Levyn of Kinloch Hold. You are hereby conscripted into the Grey Warden ranks." Rose straightened out with her words. Before Jowan could respond from the open-mouthed shock, a sound of groaning filled the room.

"Maker..." Her gaze suddenly fell down the the Arl who groggily put a hand out to help himself up. His hand splashed into his own blood and wine vomit and he reeled back as he noticed the missing digit.

"Arl Eamon. We need to discuss something." Rose gulped back. She'd ask about that purple creature later. "If Xavier and Morrigan could go and inform Arlessa Isolde that the Arl is well again - I have an important conversation that requires Jowan, the Arl, Arlessa and myself."

* * *

Rose sat into the chair she'd been in less than an hour ago, Jowan standing to her side.

The Arl was seated opposite her, his Orlesian wife clutching to his shoulder. He was doing his shirt up to cover the bruises and red marks the lightning had caused. He left his doublet undone and slumped forward onto his elbows. "Tell me Warden. What happened? I remember feeling this intense pain in my right side then I was waking up on the floor with one less finger." He looked pointedly over her shoulder and she turned her head to look at the severed digit laying abandoned on the floor.

"You were poisoned by what is known as Andraste's Mercy. The ingredients rare - only growing in a select location in Ferelden." Rose pursed her lips. "We conducted a magical ritual that is not Chantry approved so you may not breathe a word on how you were cured. Suffice to say we drew the poison to your finger, amputated the digit and cauterised the wound. A good trade to keep your life." She paused for a breath and Eamon furrowed his brow before nodding. "Tell me my lord - have you any enemies that would seek to have you disposed of?"

"Did your parents?" He answered. Rose narrowed her eyes at him and the lancing pain raced through her.

"It seems they did although it was not known before their deaths." She answered evenly. She would not let her emotions get in the way of what she sought to accomplish. Maker's teeth she'd saved his life! _That bastard!_

"I was unaware that any sought to have me assassinated. It is oddly fortuitous that you arrived in Redcliffe when you did." The Arl leaned back into his high backed chair.

"Eamon, she saved your life. I would not think that-" The Orlesian was cut off by her husband with a sharp movement of his four-fingered right hand.

"Tell me - who sought for my death?" He kept his gaze on her eyes and Rose stiffened in her seat. "You must have some clue from your talk on the type of poison used upon my person."

"The Mercy Vine - and the roots which are used to brew the poison only grow in Amaranthine. It is a very rare plant and so the poison is expensive." She answered.

"I... was hired my lord. You _deal with you_ as it were." Jowan breathed. "The man - I did not see as it was dark. He had a very cultured, nasal voice - like oil dripping off metal. He said his name was Teryn Loghain."

Eamon sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. "Maker's blood! But why?"

"Allow me to intervene here my lord." Rose cut in. "Loghain Mac Tir does not have a voice that sounds remotely like oil from metal. Would you not agree? Like a clash of the western Ferelden growl and the curt vowel sounds of Gwaren. Indeed - even when he addressed the late King's father - he pronounced it almost 'Merric' rather than 'Maric' despite having been friends with the man for a long time no?"

"He had a templar bound and gagged that had been trying to get me. The man said you conspired with Orlais - that you were a dangerous enemy to Ferelden - and pardon me Commander... but as dangerous as Bryce Cousland. Those were his exact words. Had I know what happened... I might have overheard your previous talk with the Arl." Jowan hung his head. "I'd already poisoned the wine though." Rose took in a deep breath, regretting the smell of soured vomit that assaulted her weakened stomach after the blood magic that had just happened.

"I believe my lord, that we have both been victims of the same snake in the grass." Rose closed her eyes and she briefly saw her nephew's corpse. "Arl Howe is systematically trying to have the nobility eliminated. To what end is unclear as I know of no Orlesian stakes upon my family. We must call a Landsmeet and have the man ended before more lose their lives to his ambitious crusade."

"I find myself in agreement. Should I have perished... then my brother Teagan would have needed take my Arling. I shall have couriers send for the assorted Banns and other Arls. I believe my brother to still be in Denerim since Summerday. I shall send word for him to stay there or so come to help me prepare for what we might have to do. What plans have you on the issues that we will undoubtedly face on the day of the Landsmeet?"

"I..." Rose paused and thought on it. Alistair was the rightful King but he would need lessons in politicking for months on end before he would even be a remotely adept leader of a troop baring minimal numbers. He would need someone by his side near constantly who could wade the boggy waters of politics who could also lay claim to the throne. The perfect solution struck her. Many of the nobility had come to understand Anora Mac Tir as the ruler of Ferelden, despite it being her husband that held the throne. Many would wish her to remain in power - she had been a fair ruler. Many would cling to the hopes that the Theirin line would prove to be powerful enough to produce kingly material.

"If the recently widowed Anora will allow such a union, I propose we marry Alistair to Anora. He will require a wife that can lead and teach him but who is also able to be at his side near constant. It would appease the most of the nobility. I would propose also my lord that you stand in as a Chancellor to him." That would keep Eamon interested in the idea. She could not see if Teryn Loghain _had_ left King Calian to die upon the battlefield that the man would leave their resident templar in similar fashion. Alistair struck her as a fool - but not a philandering one. _We are all pawns._ "I will hope that my brother yet lives and can inherit the Terynir. If not, I have named my heir as Roland Gilmore, son of Bann Roderick Gilmore of the Hunter's Fell Bannorn. As for the Denerim Arling. I believe if we select a candidate from the northern parts of Ferelden with strong ties to the crown and those nobles that have faced death or betrayal? I believe Bann Alfstanna may be a strong candidate there as her brother Irminric could inherit the Waking Sea Bannorn no?"

"I... agree on many of your points Warden." The Arl took in a deep breath. "Alfstanna could indeed stand well with those that would see the Denerim Arling remain in a northern family. Your point on Alistair however; I am unsure what to say, you truly believe myself to be able to be a Chancellor to the throne?" Rose had him. Hook, line and sinker. Now to reel him in.

"I believe you to know the weight of power having been the most powerful Arl in Ferelden since your late sister Rowan - Maker rest her soul - was married to King Maric. You will be able to teach Alistair and provide insights that he will not see without such help. Anora will also be able to steer him in the ways that a King should proper act." She complimented him in a roundabout way, made the man feel more important, she added her opinion in almost as fact. It was a sound argument and just as her father had taught her. _Act almost as if it were their idea Pup. Make them understand. How else will a man act if not by his own hand?_

"I shall have the Landsmeet declarations drawn up and sent then." He nodded. "Isolde - if you could help me walk, I still feel rather dizzied and would prefer it to have a steady support at all times."

"There is another matter my lord." Rose stopped his ascent. "The failed assassination of your person was only possible due to your having a mage as a son. Your lady wife hired the man Jowan Levyn who stands at my side to help the boy conceal his magic from templar scrutiny. It would be in your best interests to appear spotlessly clean from such involvement with a known blood mage and to have your son taken to the Jainen circle of magi - under care of Bann Alfstanna in the Waking Sea as it were - I'm sure she would keep the secret as would her brother. I also propose I use the Grey Warden Right of Conscription to take this man from your hands and utilise him against the darkspawn. The Wardens will take this problem from you."

"A sensible plan of action." He agreed, his tone not belying the shock on his face about having a blood mage as his servant, that his wife hired the man or that his son was a mage. It could have been any servant pulled into this assassination. It was his luck that the man responsible had been able to set things right.

* * *

Llars could feel the tingle of magic in his very pores and bones. It was always the same since he could remember and his clan had hoped that he would have been born with the gift of magic himself having been born of their previous Keeper Mahariel.

Such luck of the Creators was not on his side however and due to not many elvhen being born with such a gift, they had been given a First to Keeper Marethari in the form of Merrill. He missed them both, Keeper and First. He'd been pre-emptively taught about magic in the futile hopes of his own magic - just the basic understanding of the Beyond and of mana. But more than most.

But he could feel the magic being cast nearby. He pulled his group of Wardens, for he believed even Da'fen to have the taint within him to follow that sense and they rushed upon a group of mages in battle against a fiery foe.

The creature looked to have been molten metal or even stone for the vivid orange, the flames encircling spindly arms that looked drawn from the main body of it and a menacing if distorted face glowered more flame. The whole demeanour of it screamed in anger and violence.

One of the shemlen mages cast ice at it and the creature was rooted to the spot in icy prison before the same mage struck it with her staff, shattering it across the stone of the floor before it dissolved into the ether of the Beyond.

That mage wearily stood and a barrier of sorts erupted from her ornate staff, webbing over the door jamb forward. The mage then turned to see them. "Daniel?" The shemlen gasped in shock, raking a hand through greyed hair.

"Wynne? Aren't you, you know - dead?" He shrugged. "Er - fellow Wardens, this is Senior Enchanter Wynne. She was at Ostagar too."

"I had thought the Grey Wardens all dead when the mages fled." This Wynne slumped. "Do not think harshly of us, we had been kept out of the battle and when the darkspawn infiltrated the camp those still alive ran."

"Ostagar was a mess Mistress Wynne." Their templar shemlen spoke. "And the fault lay with the man with whom the battle plan rested on, _Teryn Loghain_." Their shemlen leader - Rose - would have words with the man again if he kept saying such a thing. The darkspawn would take any victim - like Tamlen and himself. It was pure chance that his King and this Duncan had fallen prey to the darkspawn.

"That has no bearing on our current situation." Llars interrupted, approaching this Wynne with caution. "The templar masters of this tower have given call for a Right of Annulment. They seek to end you all. My group and myself are here to rescue any survivors and end the threat to the lives present. Will you let us through the barrier ahead so we may do this?"

"I shall do more than that young man!" The elderly looking mage straightened out with a faint crack of joints. "I will help you in this task. This is my home and no rebellion will take that away from me."

He thought on her words. She was content here? How was that possible? To be content while captive? What sickness of the mind had befallen this woman? He would not begrudge the aide of one with magic - despite her being a shemlen. But Llars' mind boggled at the thought that some were content to live entrapped in these places of stone. He was already feeling the weight of it surrounding him - choking him.

The Wynne shemlen turned her back to them and waved her stave in a pattern viciously in the air, dropping the pulsing barrier forward. "What magic do you do that may help us?" He asked as he took point as leader, his greatsword still in grip.

* * *

Una kept her ear pressed against the door leading into the receiving room the entire time and she shifted away when she head the footsteps approaching. She wasn't _eavesdropping_. Nope. Not at all. It wasn't as if that tall mage and the witch didn't do the same. They were all nosy Blighters.

As the door opened she gave the Arl and his wife a wide berth before beckoning the giant and two mages to follow her into the room. "Sodding Ancestors! That was..." She couldn't think on which words to best describe what she'd heard without saying she'd been listening in. "I want to have a day sitting in your mind. How'd you get that nug-humper to do exactly what you wanted him to do?"

Their leader looked wearily at her. "Pay the piper enough and the rats will dance." She responded ominously, her eyes were red-rimmed and she really noted how dark the bags under her eyes where. "Just call me the Pied Piper of Highever."

"That's a children's story my dear - and I see no flute betwixt your lips." Xavier smiled. "Come on - you're looking ill."

"I wish it were just illness." Their leader replied, sighing as she got up and cracked the joints of her wrists. "But part one of my plan has worked - even with that hurdle. Xavier - you know the Joining ritual thing to make people Grey Wardens - see to it for the blood mage."

"Come on Jowan. I don't know what Daniel is going to say when he finds out this all happened. He might gut you." The rusty-headed mage smiled and snorted a burst of laughter.

* * *

Daniel listened as Wynne listed off her skills, Spirit Healing, Creationism and Arcanism. They'd picked up a hypocritical mage that couldn't do anything but heal stuff. What was she going to do? Heal the demons away? He kept his grip tighter to his staff.

It was so disconcerting to feel the demonic presences around him, the corridors eerily quiet since they'd approached Wynne's group with Eadric, Petra and Kinnon as well as the children apprentices. Just the warmth of his fellow Grey Wardens and this burning demonic feeling layered over that.

They passed yet another empty dormitory, not even the tingle of magic or a heartbeat within. He gulped. Wisp Ward had been empty, Primal Ward, Creation Ward, Spirit Ward - all of them empty. They were put in alphabetical order to their surnames. There had been six in the 'Surana family' - himself, Vera, Ollisinder, Anerin, Illoni and Freyan - each of them having been too young to remember their surname or even know their first name in his and Vera's case. Anerin had escaped Kinloch Hold a long time ago - he had to be dead. The Surana family 'lived' in Element Ward, the two girls in the fire half - because that was the female half of the dormitory and the four boys (then three after Anerin had escaped) in the ice half.

Daniel stared fixedly at the wooden door with the Tevine lettering 'Elemental' on it. The door was closed and he could feel something on the other side. He tensed further, gripping his wooden staff until a splinter embedded in his hand.

Fucking arse... he lifted the palm of his pale hand to his face and gripped the dark splinter between his teeth, pulling it out with a small pinching scrape and spat the splinter on the floor. "Da'lethallin... are you well?" Daniel sighed as Llars spoke, his lyrical accent almost soothing against the building tension he felt.

"The Surana family - we all lived in that dormitory." He pointed his staff at the Elemental Ward. "And I don't know about you or the templar - but I feel something weird in there." Suddenly a wave of what felt like ice swept into his veins and he acted on pure instinct, opening the door until he was faced with the sight of Vera in her red robes and Ollisinder in his blue ones - both battling against a creature twice their elven height, ripped purple robes on it's bottom half and grotesque lumpy flesh sprouted from the top.

Abomination. Daniel acted on instinct again and drew on his mana, tugging on the energies of the fragile Veil to throw a Spirit Bolt at the horrid thing.

Upon noticing his attack the abomination turned to face him and he was struck by the eyes that bore down on him. Purple eyes and a purple robe. It was Illoni. She'd become an abomination. Maker... this couldn't have happened!

* * *

Lindra noticed the way Daniel froze up and she crept around the pale mage, her daggers still in their wrist sheaths as she sought to blend into the background. Llars yelled a warcry and started a charge at the abomination before it suddenly directed a barrier of lights around the Dalish elf. He seized up and was lifted into the air, screaming.

The Wynne shem reacted and the same blue that Xavier normally had in his hands erupted from the end of her staff, her wrinkled face drawn into a determined focus at Llars to presumably stop him from dying.

The twisted bloody creature and Daniel were still staring at each other - as if they both knew each other. "Daniel - it's not her any more! You need to help us!" The elf in the red robes over in the corner shouted. Lindra burst out of her shadows that moment and her daggers snapped out with her wrists flicking back and she slipped those daggers deep into the lumpy muscles of this creature's back. She retracted them with a snap of her wrists and darted back as quickly as she'd descended.

A jolt of magic tingle shook the room and she quickly glanced at Daniel, he had thrown one of those purple lights from his staff that made things blow up into a pile of blood and other goo at it. Lindra ran over to the two elven mages - the red and blue ones and nodded at them before she pushed off the wall and her daggers _shhing'd_ out again, this time savagely slashing in circular motions.

Blood splattered off the creature and it looked down at her slowly. Then she felt an invisible force pushing on her until she was thrown back into the wall. She hit the stone hard and the air whooshed out of her, her pack rattling and clinking as the bottles and vials within touched.

She rubbed her ribs as she peeled herself off the floor and the red clad elf came up to her, running dainty hands in the air before pale green light swam in her vision and she felt her aches and pains easing. Oh - now that felt lovely. Like being given a massage. There was a high pitched keening scream and suddenly she felt it break and the bang that one of the exploding spells Daniel did had worked on the creature, splattering blood over everything, a wet slick of it covered her neck and she wiped it with the back of her arm.

Yuck. She hated that spell. It was useful because - no bodies to run over. But yuck - it covered everything in blood. "Did you have to smite me before that?" Daniel growled, picking himself off the floor and scowling over at Alistair. "It's bad enough I had attack one of the Suranas - Illoni but you smited me! You utter bastard!"

"Hey - it was to stop the abomination from casting a barrier. Sorry if I saved your arse!" Came the quipped reply. Lindra slapped a hand down her face.

"One of your family?" Lindra asked. "That used to be... Oh Daniel!" She rushed over and wrapped her leather clad arms around his thin shoulders.

"She was an abomination - there was nothing we could have done." Llars intoned. "But the blood of your kin stains my blade. I am sorry for you da'lethallin."

"She wasn't family any more. Now get off me Lindra!" Daniel fidgeted until she was squirmed away from and he walked over to the two elves that had been in the room. "Vera! Ollisinder! Maker's arse are you two alright?"

"I'm fine!" The male one smirked. "I'm sorry Daniel but... Freyan was that one over there..." He pointed over at what looked to be a burnt patch of the room. "Five other apprentices too. We'd nearly managed to finish them off but... well. It was our family! These were friends and people we all knew!"

"I know." Daniel put a hand on the male elf's shoulder. She knew it wasn't really a family of Surana mages - but it looked odd because Daniel was so pale and this other one was quite tan, with brown hair cropped short to his head, shorter at the sides. "Vera - that was a nice minor heal you did just then, how are you little sister?"

"I'm good. Kinda pissed that there's abomination parts on my bed now. I was quite happy with flaming ones - but exploding abomination? My fragile disposition has had it!" She put a hand up to her forehead theatrically.

"Oh - everyone. Vera is the girl in red. Ollisinder is the boy in blue. The survivors of the Surana family." Daniel frowned a bit before perking up. "My fellow Wardens - Llars - is the Dalish one over there with the sword that looks like he'd fall over using. Lindra - is this skinny one with the hidden daggers and pack of poisons. The templar is called Alistair and the dog is called Daffy."

"_Da'fen_!" Llars groaned. "You all say his name wrong. Elgar'nan da'lethallan!"

"Yeah - he has a bit of an anger problem when people say the dog's name wrong." Daniel shrugged. "So yeah... if you head toward the foyer you'll come across Petra, Eadric, Kinnon and most of the children apprentices. Go..." He hugged them in turn and the two elves hooked their robes up around their knees and ran in the direction they'd come from. "Well don't keep standing there like lemons! We have a tower to save!" He swept his hands at the other Wardens.

"No need to be so pushy young man." The Wynne shem sighed.

* * *

The continual use of skills taught her by her parents was wearing on Rose. She'd thought before all this mess she could leave her previous life behind. Then... it had all happened. Her whole family dead or missing and presumed dead. Ostagar and the rest of the Highever troops were dead... so much death.

She'd been unable to save a single one of them. Only seven Warden survivors from Ostagar - six of them only newly Wardens and the other so green - and a bastard prince.

Something had incensed her to be the leader. The need to make amends for so much death by being the one with the plan that could save Ferelden - against both the civil war already in motion and this Blight. "I found it... intriguing how you manipulated this Arl Eamon." Rose looked up and glanced at the witch that had spoken.

"I'm glad it was of some amusement to someone." She sighed, putting her hand up to her temples to try and abate the headache forming there. This unerring sense of duty was so tiring. She could have been fighting the darkspawn horde all day for the fatigue that wore at her entire body. "I shall see about accommodations in Redcliffe shortly. If the Arl will not put us in his guest rooms that is while we await the others from Kinloch Hold. This Landsmeet will take some time to arrange. In the meantime - I will be practising my opening words and arguments. And my plans. I can't afford a spanner thrown in the works. I need back-up plans for every eventuality."

"That much is sensible." Morrigan pursed her lips. "I do not understand however why we do not just dispose of these people who seek to destroy the country during a Blight. They are obviously fools."

"It's isn't as simple as that. These people... command in a way others. You have freeholders and the common man. They get looked after by Banns. Bannorns are seen over by Arls, as well as their own lands - Arlings. Then you have Teryns - and they oversee Arls and their own lands - the Terynirs. The only person higher than that is the monarch. When one place empties for whatever reason - the others get uppity and they fight over even minor things." Rose slumped forward and rested her head in her hands, propped up by her elbows.

"And you seek to place the templar buffoon on this throne above all others. A man who on our last day in shared camp came out of his tent with his boots on the wrong feet." Morrigan drawled. "He will not be a competent King of this country you claim to be trying to save."

Morrigan had been listening in. Sneaky witch indeed. Then again - Una hadn't been subtle about eavesdropping either. "It isn't competence. It's his blood. Once word gets out of it - there will be rebellions raised in his name to be put on the throne if he does not get put there. He needs someone competent enough to rule - and there is a sitting Queen who has done that the last five years. Trust me when I say it will appease those who would fight on that matter. There isn't another route that would appease this many." Rose shook her head. This headache just hurt. "Now I have a recruit that needs tending to. If you'll excuse me Morrigan." And with that. She left the witch alone in the receiving room.

* * *

Llars was concerned with the sheer amount of abominations and demons they had encountered. The two mages of the group had identified each once they were in the clear of being attacked.

The ones that looked molten and fiery - that emitted the feeling of anger where known as Rage demons. Abominations that were mages possessed by this demon were just as dangerously volatile in a fight. They were easy to overcome though - they could be overcome with a show of strength and no defence - kill do not cripple.

Then there was Hunger. Demons that tried to drain the very willpower of the opponent. They tried to tire you before you could fight back. Looking like a cross between a starved corpse and a rabid animal they were the back up of the Rage demons. They had to be taken out. Their abomination form was a desperate fighter, nothing to lose. Kill first before it could wear you down.

Despair was a melancholic foe, another that wore the opponent down, tried to make them stop the fight and withdraw into themselves. It looked like a creature of water, tears. The Abominations were also just as dangerous, trying to put the opponent into a stupor where they wished they could curl up and die. He'd known that feeling and Llars felt more affected by these demons. The two mages attacked them furiously - another to kill first before it could wear you down.

Desire. He'd seen so much... it tried to weaken him. Be would not bow to such a base instinct and had attacked that demon, a scantily clad purple being that whispered what they most wanted. Not just pleasure but joy and fulfilment. Desire was dangerous and they were lucky not to have encountered an abomination of this type so far.

They had not encountered the two highest types of demon yet. Sloth and Pride. The mages had both shuddered to think of such battles.

But they were clearing the tower of the threat quickly. They had near constant healing from the elderly shemlen mage Wynne and Daniel shared his lyrium with her for needful sakes alone. They all had been hurt in battle and this Wynne was able to leave them unscarred after such skirmishes. Their armour held well against magical attack and physical attack from these demons and abomination.

Just what were these templars so skittish over? They hadn't faltered for long once they'd figured how to fight these creatures. It had been established that abominations - once ended burst into flames. Both Daniel and the shemlen Wynne were able to put up arcane shielding in such events - and if Daniel had used the walking bomb spell - the flames didn't happen.

It was going well. He sheathed his greatsword on his back as he pounded up the stairway. They'd do all this and get the mages to support this Creator damned treaty. Then the templars would also be in their debt and that would be more troops. The Banalhan would require every able fighter and Mythal be his witness he would make sure they would fight.

He stopped at the door at the top of the stairs, panting a short while. He could feel the tingling of magic on the other side of the next door. He pushed it open and put his other hand up to the pommel of his sword pre-emptively.

The sight... so much blood. It would haunt him. Llars could feel the magic holding the twisted flesh over the metal trellises that sectioned off this library of sorts. Books... he'd never seen so many. The knowledge sorted here! He hesitantly picked out the nearest one and held it to himself to distract from the gruesome sight. "The Analysis of the Magic of Thedas... that's a good read. Written by an elven enchanter by the name of Ruvena from this very tower." The shemlen mage said cordially. He turned to see her looking pointedly from the twisted bloody flesh and reaching for another of the books. "This one was always my favourite. The Rose of Orlais."

"Trashy romances?" Daniel smirked.

"If you wish to see more of the library you should wait for me to clean it up." The whole group spun to the emotionless voice. It sent chills down his spine to see the shemlen standing there, shaved head with a scar in the shape of the sun on his forehead, his face blank of all emotion. He couldn't even see any of the normal bits of distraction that all of them were having by going to the bookshelf. Even Lindra was _shhinging_ her daggers nervously.

"Owain? What are you doing here?" The Wynne shemlen shook her head. "Go downstairs and see to the children. They're scared."

"But the library requires tidying." He spoke, the same chills shuddered through the Dalish elf.

The Wynne shemlen tutted and muttered something low to him and he nodded slowly before walking evenly and calmly out the way they had come. "What in the Maker's name was that?" Lindra gasped.

"He was Tranquil. A mage _they_ cut off from the Fade and his emotions." Daniel glowered over at the templar shemlen. "I think I'd rather die than become one of those... horrid things."

"Don't look at me like that! I've never made anyone Tranquil!" He huffed.

"Are there more demons about?" Llars asked, drawing their attentions to himself.

"Nothing on this entire floor. The dormitories were lower abomination and demon filled... this one just feels empty." Daniel answered, closing his eyes before his pale blue eyes met his again. "But upstairs - the chapel. It feels like something powerful is up there."


	11. Death

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Chapter content: M - for character death.

(Quick A/N: Now we slip away from the PCs and go to what exactly happened to Fergus and Roland!)

* * *

He'd managed to find Fergus on the week's anniversary of leaving Ostagar. He'd... not been able to persuade the stableowner Leo Portland that he was allowed the use of one of the horses they'd left in his stables.

Roland had seen the ageing mare saddled up for sale - as the man who owned her wished to get his family out of Lothering and went to the man holding her reigns. The man was rather calm and collected about everything, with a genuine smile - Lucas Hawes? He couldn't remember his name - it wasn't important. What was important was that he took the measly two silvers in his pocket in exchange for the fully saddled animal and a few supplies like food and a blanket.

He'd ridden as hard as possible to make the week's horseback journey to Highever quicker but had quickly run out of supplies in Rainesfere, on the third day. The sitting Bann - Teagan Guerrin wasn't there and so the local Chantry board, asking for aide in matters was chock a block with things that the Bann most probably would have had sorted in a heartbeat by re-distributing skills.

He took quick, easy jobs. Clipping the wings of chickens so they couldn't fly off for Farmer Devens, helping the local nurse tend to elderly peoples of the village, mainly applying poultices and salves to withered limbs and making sure they were fed and watered, taking out commodes for scrubbing. It was all simple things. There had been a particular lady - Widow Marsh that had slipped him a silver coin for making sure her mouser had his nails clipped back too. From some of the scratches he'd gotten in that encounter with 'Fluffy' - he was glad. He also milked cows, goats and sheep, mucked out stables and sties, moved sacks of corn and grain from last harvest to the proper silos.

In total he raised twenty silver coins in two days, pure sweat and hard work as well as picking jobs that paid better than most for time spent doing them. He bought the supplies he needed, like a tent, something to cook with as cold food was making him slowly wish for some and food and water that should last him. He filled the saddlebags on the old mare (Petunia - horrid name).

Roland set off again after that; a bit of coin in his pocket should he need to re-supply and his current supplies ready.

Two days later - he was in Bann Loren's lands and came across a commotion. People gathered around the village square.

"And I hereby sentence this man to hang until the life drains from his body." The Bann finished reading. "May the Maker have mercy on your soul."

Roland pushed the horse through the crowds gathered for the public execution, his gaze never leaving that melancholic face. "My lord, Bann Loren. What is this man's crime?" He demanded.

Bann Loren, a somewhat prematurely elderly man, tugged his doublet down his chest and straightened out. "Failure to protect the lives of my family and treason against the Teryn of Highever." He replied with a snap, turning back to the executioner. Roland caused a scene however, jumping for the horse and climbing onto the gallows themselves to address not only the people but the Bann.

"Then I ask you forestall this barbaric scene. I was at Highever after the attack there two weeks past. Lord Darrien and Lady Landra were already dead when we arrived. Many good Highever men had lost their lives already defending the castle but we were all overwhelmed. This man you wish to execute was doing his civic duty and leading his troops to Ostagar and he lost his own wife and son in the attack. Would you have him demand your blood should circumstances been different my lord?" Roland huffed with the weight of the words he'd said and looked over again at the man to be hung.

Fergus looked so broken. Like he'd lost an integral part of himself like his heart. That same lost look that Rose sported for their week of travel. He'd heard the rumours on the road and in Rainsfere of the complete loss of all the Grey Wardens and the King at Ostagar. He had just one Cousland left to protect and Maker damn him he would protect Fergus with his very life.

But there was also acceptance in his demeanour. That he wanted it to be over. Roland looked back at the white-haired Bann. "Need I also remind you my lord that it is illegal to execute a member of the nobility without having so gone to Landsmeet beforehand?" He continued.

"See to it that these men trade places. Guards!" Bann Loren replied, his pale face flushing red in anger.

"No! Roland is the sole heir of the Hunter's Fell Bannorn!" Fergus cried from his place on the trapdoor. "If you wish for death then have mine!"

"The man asks for it. I ask for vengeance in my family's name. Do you not think this wise?" The Bann sneered at him. Roland narrowed his eyes at him.

"You kill the sole heir to the Highever Terynir and the position is passed to me as told by Lord Fergus' younger sister. You will be placing yourself against a very powerful enemy Bann Loren. Release Fergus Cousland into my care this moment and I shall advise him when he sits as Teryn to keep you in his coffers as vassal. Surely you will need such assistance?"

And somehow. It worked. You couldn't have asked him exactly how. Possibly the threat of making the future Teryn angry regardless of which man he killed, the withdrawal of funding from the ruling Teryn over his own Bannorn and the fact that executing either of them would have been illegal. That and it had been quite the public spectacle. Bann Loren was not wholly loved by the people of Oswin for his fluidity in loyalties.

They were however - made to leave the Bannorn forthwith. Fergus was in civvies and was thrown still in bonds over the back of the mare and Roland had no choice but to ride with Lord Fergus in this way until he knew they would be safe from harm.

* * *

"Treason against the Teryn of Highever?" Roland breathed when he undid the rope bonds holding Fergus. Just what was Bann Loren speaking of?

"I…" Fergus deflated into himself, staying in the same position on the floor - a broken man. "I saw the heraldry of the men now patrolling Highever. The new flag above the ramparts. The… bodies… brutalised and impaled on the walls of the keep itself."

"My lord." Roland leaned forward and brushed some of the muck from the horse off the older man's face, wiping some of the tears that were welling there too. He'd known this would be a trying time. He would stand by the last Cousland until his dying breaths. They'd given him so much, a position in their castle and their acceptance despite being a glorified farmer's son. "Tell me it is not Howe who resides as Teryn now."

"It is." Fergus closed his eyes; a sheen of salted tears escaping his eyelids. "Were they… all dead? When you arrived? Was there truly nothing you could have done?"

"Nothing my lord." Roland bowed his head. "Can I ask what you did that was considered treasonous against the… Teryn?" He asked, taking in a deep breath.

"I demanded my family be burnt. Rather than festering for the carrion to feast at." Fergus spoke in a monotone. "For not being there to protect my family I should have been hung! Why did you have to protest so?" His voice rose up in anger and he glared at the other man, still knelt on the ground where his bonds had been removed.

"Because you are the last Cousland and Maker give me strength I swore to protect the Couslands until I died. Your sister sent me in search of you before the battle of Ostagar. Every Grey Warden died in that battle against the darkspawn. Now get from the floor. We have a rebellion to raise."

Fergus just stared at him for a few moments, trying to comprehend what had been said. He nodded mutely and stood, numb to think of anything other than following the order. "We head to Rainesfere as soon as night falls so we may slip through Bann Loren's lands for quicker journey. I hope that the Bann there will see our cause as worthy and give us reign of some of his men. Maker… what have we but our own lives to lose now old friend?"

"Nothing." He answered, gulping. "Let us restore things to how they should be. Howe will not prosper from what he has done. We do this in memory of..." He voice broke.

* * *

Lindra huffed back onto a wall at the top of the second flight of stone stairs. Why did this bloody tower have to be so Maker damned tall? What was wrong with making things shorter?

But even she could feel the wrongness coming from the next room. The one ahead. And judging by the pallid faces of all the others – whom she'd now figured out, could all feel these demons and abominations (mages and son of mage and templar. At least the dog and she were both unable to sense such things).

But even this sense of wrong was all encompassing. It eked out and latched to her pores. It felt tainted and wrong, chilling her to the bone. "That has to be a higher level demon. Sloth or Pride." Daniel breathed, leaning into his wooden stave and bringing that blue bottle of lyrium to his lips and taking a gulp. "Maker's arse I'm just so tired. Someone pinch me. Actually – don't."

"Xavier… got shaky on too much of that stuff." She managed before having to take a deep breath. "Don't overdo yourself."

"No problem. I'm… more powerful. I can handle it." He swept a hand through his hair and smeared a little of the blue lyrium into the silky white stained with red blood splatters in the now tangled ends. "Come on. Higher level demon in need of its arse handed to it." He chivvied them along and the Wynne shem cast something in pale green light like Vera had, rejuvenating her stamina.

Llars nodded his thanks for it and pushed the door to the room ahead open, pounding ahead them at point. The abomination towered taller than the others had been and Lindra slipped into the shadows of one of the marbled statues pre-emptively, ready to attack this creature when it wasn't expecting it.

"Oh look – guests." This one spoke? _Shit on a stick._ It drawled at them and she felt as if she were bedded in eiderdown for the comforting feeling surrounding her. "I would entertain you but… too much effort."

"Well we'll just have to gut you then!" Daniel smirked, drawing his staff out and readying that purple magic. When suddenly he went down – straight to the floor. Quickly followed by a thump of doggy body on the floor.

Lindra looked at it – it was sticky with blood, the tang and metal of it burning in her nostrils. Whatever this abomination was doing – she would fight against it. With every iota of her being she would fight. She heard the Wynne shem try to rally them into fighting this force before the woman went down with a slap into the stone.

Just her, Llars and Alistair left. The three of them… against something that had taken out their two mages already. She saw Llars rush forward and start to swing his greatsword in a leaping arc before he collapsed as if in a deep sleep on the ground – his sword skittering away uselessly.

Alistair narrowed his eyes and started muttering the words he spoke when he drained the demons and abominations of their powers. Daniel had called it a 'smite'… Lindra watched as he faltered halfway through and the kossith abomination swept a hand through the air, orange magics swirling to bring the templar to his knees.

With his attentions very much on Alistair, Lindra burst from the shadows and _shhing'd_ her daggers out with a snap of her wrists and moved the daggers in a wide arcs outwards, cutting deep into the lumpy, sinewy flesh of the abomination before she jumped back unseen, waiting for the abomination to put it's full attentions back on the shem templar.

Alistair looked at her, sweat beading on his forehead as he was fighting whatever this abomination was trying to do. Lindra nodded and sprang out again and slipped her daggers deep into abomination back.

Blood seeped down the blades and into her leather gloves and sleeves, pooling uncomfortably on her arms but she didn't care. This thing needed to die and she was going to end it. Maker... she felt so tired. She would fight this!

With a grunt she pulled her left dagger out and pounded it back in, followed by the right.

She was going to use her daggers to climb this abomination like she climbed the Ogre on the field at Ostagar.

Using every muscle she had she staked her left wrist higher and pushed up from the floor, wrapping her legs around the abomination before she was tightly locked around it's middle. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Da'fen almost wake up and take a running lunge at the abomination, locking his grey jaws on the leg under the tattered brown robes it wore on the bottom half.

She felt the pulses of tiring magic tingle through her but she was determined not to fall to this. She would end its miserable life before it could end her. The dog was thrown across the room, skidding through wooden pews on claws before it started back as if unhindered, this time latching harder into abomination leg.

Alistair seemed to be able to get up now and unsheathed his sword from his hip, the wooden shield on his arm already strapped to him as that tingle of magic in the air abated. He had finished that 'smite' thing.

The abomination faltered and Lindra gripped around it tighter not to be bucked, the blood was pooling over her from the wounds she was continually causing but she tried not to slip.

The blood was seeping into the minute nicks and holes her leather had and she shuddered at the intrusion of the warm liquid, slicking down the abomination. She slammed her daggers into it and they sliced deep down as she carried on sliding until her backside hit the floor. That was when the abomination realised she was a threat. A proper threat.

It turned its twisted mockery of a face to her and that orange glow between its hands intensified and she swore it laughed. Then a slam of purple light hit it and it exploded before she could feel the magic get directed at her.

She looked up and Daniel was panting and swearing, half his body covered in blood from the floor where he'd fallen. He dropped his staff and used both his hands to haul the bottle of lyrium to his lips when he drank deeply of it in a few gulps.

"Maker… I was there again. They were all dead." The shem mage groaned as she lifted off the floor, her purple and red robes with the feathery shoulders matted through with blood.

"You think that was bad shemlen!" She flicked her gaze to Llars and he growled, blood not stuck to him but pouring freely from where his brow had caught the edge of the raised dais the abomination had made him collapse into. "I was with my clan! I knew they were gone and had to leave them again! You did not believe you were in the Beyond! You are one who walks the place of dreams!"

"I found him getting angry at everything in the Fade… that abomination is known as Sloth. It's a demon that tries to make you go to sleep and get trapped in your own dreams where it leeches on your life essence." Daniel quickly explained to the very confused feeling Lindra before she could even ask. "Like an Entrophist really. Waking Nightmare."

"We were the only beings there that realised the charade!" Llars continued to rant. "Where is my missan?"

"Your what?" It was now Alistair's turn for Llars to fume at.

"My blade! My greatsword!" He growled before finding it and holding it one-handedly and resting the flat of the blade on his shoulder. "Come – let us continue this farce of fighting demons with the weak shemlen mage so we can be rid of her."

"I have a feeling that young Warden does not like me." The Wynne shem muttered to the templar shem.

"He doesn't like a lot of people. We have three other Wardens that should be in Redcliffe now. One's a moody bitch but the other two seem alright." He shrugged. _Well of course Alistair didn't like their blue-blood leader… Rose._ She was making the decisions none of the other Junior Wardens, like herself, couldn't even begin to make and had very openly told him to either lead them himself or shut up.

* * *

Fergus wrapped himself tight in the woollen blanket, staring out the slit of the tent flaps and the way Roland tended their small fire, frying the wood pigeon he'd shot down for their dinner with dried onions, potato and some oil.

"Are you going to eat my lord?" Roland asked into the tent, knowing that he was still awake. How could he sleep? How could he see their faces contorted in those masks of pain and terror. His poor son. He'd looked nearly beheaded. The would ensure that Howe would die for this. Slowly - painfully, with no dignity.

"No." He finally responded, ignoring the growl and ache in his stomach. When had he last eaten? A small bowl was pushed into the tent, a spoon standing up in the meat, potato and onion and the aroma filling the canvas room.

How could his family have fallen to such betrayal? From a _friend_. A man he and his... dead sister had called _Uncle_. His whole family was gone. What right did he have to live but to avenge them?

* * *

Rose curled up in the kennels, Aegis with his paws on her shoulders, his big head on the right hand side on her shoulder guard. "I just miss them. I could have done something if I'd stayed! I..." Aegis nuzzled into her ear and stuck his tongue in. "You disgusting animal!"

He yapped when his mistress squirmed, burying her face into his tan shoulder, her tears hot in his bristly fur and he shifted forward. His mistress needed comforting and he would provide it.

Rose threaded her fingers into his fur and just held the mabari. She didn't want to hurt any more. She couldn't stand the slow crushing feeling that she could have done something - anything. If she'd been in Highever when the attack started. If she'd called the retreat at Ostagar sooner. So many ifs weighed deep inside her.

She just couldn't stand it. "Knock knock. One old fashioned mage to the rescue of the ravishing leader?" She laughed mirthlessly into Aegis at the words of her resident Spirit Healer.

She felt his warm thrum sit next to her in the hay of the kennels and he put a hand to her shoulder. She looked up and took in a deep breath. "Ravishing leaders don't cry. They soldier on." Rose wiped the back of her arm across her face, mopping up the fat tears that had most probably stained her skin a mottled pink.

"We all have feelings my dear. Don't bottle them up." He soothed. "And if you ever want to talk - I'm always around. I'm used to lots of children crying."

"I'm not a child." She ground out, meeting those vivid blue eyes with her own green ones. "I cannot afford to be a child."

"I didn't mean it like that dear." He brushed a hand through his floppy rust coloured hair and sighed. "I can't do the Joining ritual Commander. I haven't the ingredients."

"Then get them." She answered. She could cope with this. When not deeply involved with something or giving orders she just felt that clawing pain return. It was good... numbing to have this purpose. "That's an order Warden."

"I physically need to get blood off of a darkspawn then." Xavier sighed. "The next time we come across the Blighters we'll collect it then. It's the only ingredient I'm missing."

"How fresh does it need be and how much?" Rose asked, looking up at his taller seated form. "Una-"

"Burnt those rags. They had darkspawn taint on them." He finished. "And pretty fresh. I have everything else I need."

"When the other half of our group returns - I'll get a group ready to hunt some darkspawn." Rose stood up. "I have a few things I need to attend to. If that is all Warden?"

"Remember you can talk to us. Una and I would both listen." Xavier smiled weakly.

Rose sighed as she passed him. She didn't want to talk about things. She just wished that her own life could continue and weather like everyone else's seemed to be able.

* * *

Daniel recognised the mage on the floor next to the splatter of blood that had been the Sloth abomination. It had once... been Niall. Now frozen in rigor mortis - a hand ramrod straight out and clutching to a scroll. It must have been important.

For how vile it was to take from the dead, he was the one that removed the scroll from dead fingers, unfurling the vellum. "The Litany of Andralla." He heard Wynne gasp. This litany... it should stop blood magic from dominating them. He'd keep this with him. No more demonic control. Daniel slipped the scroll into his satchel with his large bottle of lyrium.

_Non erit tibi amplius maleficarum nos _- You will hold us no more maleficar. It was... poignant. He would remember those words. Tevine was a language he'd loved to read. He'd left his last spellbook in Ostagar. Now he'd use it to end this threat on the mages still collared by the templars.

* * *

Llars was still seething by the time they reached the fourth floor of the tower. The shemlen mage had healed his injuries as if he'd never received as such but he could not get past what he had seen in the Beyond. Daniel had found him with Tamlen in his clan. He knew the whole of it was illusion. But it was a comforting one. He'd had to... Creators - he had to kill his entire clan. It was only a nightmare but the whole of it weighed heavily on him.

Heavier than having left them before. He found he couldn't even look at their faces, feeling as if he'd betrayed them in his leaving.

This was the Senior Mages library and dormitory floor. The only one above apparently called 'The Harrowing Chamber'. Where apprentices were tested to become fully fledged mages. Daniel had grimaced when the shemlen mage had said about that. This floor had been infested with demons of desire.

There were many templars here so enthralled by the demons that even when the demon had been vanquished and sent back to the Beyond - they still attacked them. Those shemlen were misguided in attacking them - but they were cunning and drained the two mages of their powers.

He swept his greatsword in a great arc and beheaded the templar that had tried to end his fellow Warden, Daniel on the floor, regaining his powers by drinking lyrium.

Lindra slipped past him and her daggers went under a templar's arms and into the unprotected area in his armour there, ending his life quickly.

Their own templar matched another's moves, sword and shields crashing with harsh sonorous clanks and clangs. Da'fen pounced on the attacking one and put him to the ground before their own templar thrust his sword downward into the other man's neck.

Llars crashed against one of the templars and knocked him to the floor. Suddenly he felt the magic in the air pick up and every bruise and cut he had tried to ignore felt as if washed away, the remaining templars in the room were all picked up by invisible bonds and they screamed and wept as their insides were crushed. Daniel stood with his arms outstretched on his staff, pouring powers into the spell before he ended it and they dropped to the floor.

"Maker's arse. The lyrium is getting... to my head." Daniel whimpered. The shemlen mages tutted and lit her hand up blue, running it up and down his head quickly. "Better... still painful."

* * *

Then they came across the templar in the prison. He hadn't cared what the shemlen was babbling so about. He thought something about ever mage being a worthless pile of their Maker's droppings or something. Honestly - Llars was tired.

How long had they been in battle now? Sending the mages they found down to the foyer? There were more highly skilled ones here. Ones they couldn't sustain to keep in battle. Daniel had named them. He couldn't think on all their names. It was too many for him to process proper. The stone surrounding him seemed to choke.

It would be over soon. One more floor of demons. Then it would be over. He would get the mage troops and the templars would be in debt to him. He would have their troops too. He could prove that the elvhen were not the worthless trash that everyone had so thought.

Where had that thought come from?

Daniel had finished talking to that templar - having become almost red in the face with anger mind you before they went up the next set of stairs. The last one.

* * *

Daniel readied himself. Something felt so wrong in the Harrowing Chamber that it lit up his senses as if on fire with the demonic presence. Then he say the orange robes, the shaved head, the thick eyebrows.

He shook still with the lyrium coursing through his body, the ache of it sloshing in his stomach. But he needed to prove that he was worthy of the title Grey Warden. Being the brightest mage wasn't enough. He had to... prove something. Abominations surrounded the human mage, not harming him but standing on his side.

"_Uldred_! You started this?" He screeched across the high-ceilinged chamber. The Senior Enchanter turned nonplussed to him and the group he was with.

"Someone of worth! Finally!" He smiled and Daniel reeled back at the way his oice almost took on two tones at once, like two people spoke at the same time. Waves of demonic energies rolled off him, creating the urge to vomit the lyrium he's drunk relentlessly in the pit of his stomach.

"We killed your lackeys. Now you die for threatening those with the gift of magic." Llars called out in his lyrical accent and he heard the unmistakable scrape of the Dalish elf unsheathing his greatsword.

"Now don't make this about who killed whom." Uldred rolled his eyes. "They died in service of their betters. Surely you all can see how your own power combined with that of a demon would just increase that greatness you have that is so raw?"

"We will never become abominations Uldred. You stop this madness!" Wynne cried. He felt the bolstering of her magics in his veins, attempting to protect from the blood magic.

"This isn't worth it - let's just kill the shem and ask questions later." Lindra scowled. Da'fen seemed to bark in agreement. Daniel couldn't agree more.

"Fools!" Uldred spat before he pulled a dagger from the folds of his orange robes. Shitting Maker's arse! The dagger cut viciously into his hand and the blood coalesced around him he readied the Tevine words on his tongue and thrust a hand into his satchel - palming the Litany of Andralla over to Wynne. She'd be able to read it too.

"Non_ erit tibi amplius maleficarum nos!_" He screamed and Uldred faltered as their resident templar rushed forward and smited him. He readied his sword to end the mage then when one of the abominations Mind Blasted him across the stone floor.

It descended into chaos quickly then. Llars rushed out like an elf possessed, his sword ringing with the strength he wielded, screaming in those Dalish words he couldn't understand. Lindra switched out of her normal attack and run pattern and was viciously swiping at anything that neared her, chucking poison and acidic bombs from her pack like they would go out of fashion quickly.

He drew on his willpower, let it course through his veins as he let crushing prisons attack the abominations and fired a virulent walking bomb at them to overthrow their faming death throes.

Then Uldred... transformed. There was a horrific ripping sound and he felt the ripples of the Veil throughout his body, the swelling of Pride.

Uldred... was possessed by Pride and it had overcome him turning his body into the towering spiked creature, blackened with his own blood and powerful.

Uldred swept an arm across the room and knocked Lindra into the wall. Blood oozed from the back of her neck and down her chest. Wynne ran to her, blue lighting up her entire form.

He stood with just a mabari... the templar was knocked out from the fighting with abominations. Llars was indisposed with those abominations. Wynne could barely make an offensive spell. Lindra... he hoped was still alive.

Then he released all of his magic in a torrent at the towering Pride abomination. All of his learning in Spirit and Arcane, forcing a crushing prison into his enlarged organs and heart, fizzing his blood with spirit bolt after spirit bolt.

He dropped his staff as he reached for the lyrium and drank deeply, running toward the abomination. He would end it.

Da'fen latched onto one of the bony plates of the abomination and was shaken when Daniel felt the blood magic latch onto him. He rose up, his blood singing in his ears, the heat unbearable and his blood fizzed with a spirit bolt and the dispelling magics being forced into his form.

He could feel it all slipping away when his nose dripped with the effort of remaining awake. "_Non erit tibi amplius maleficarum nos._" He screamed and he fell to the stone with a crack and a lous shatter above the roaring magic.

He reached for his lyrium and found the bottle smashed. He palmed the blue liquid and glass, licking the shards on his hand with the rejuvenating mineral on it when he unleashed another wave of his magics joined to the abomination.

Uldred faltered as he tried his damnedest and he could feel his control slipping. It was all just fading. His body was weeping to be healed.

Daniel would not let this abomination kill him!

The Dalish elf charged past him as a wet splatter of blood sounded behind him - the abominations had been downed. He ran alongside the other elf and summoned every bit of strength and willpower he hand when he collided with the leg of the Pride abomination.

He poured his entire essence through the skin contact, screaming as he felt it go again. The pain overwhelming him.

He could feel every part of himself numbing after a while as if in slow motion and he forced a last futile walking bomb through his exhausted mana pool to warp the Veil around Uldred.

* * *

Lindra blinked blearily when she heard the screaming and pushed off the wall. The fight was still on. Whatever that shem mage had turned into... she could destroy.

She felt the ghost of the pain that had been in an itch and swell of ache and she ran past the shem mage Wynne, the elder mage and she _shhing'd_ her daggers out and launched into the huge creature, using whatever strength she had in her wiry muscles to stake up the beast, using the latches and bony plating to hold her weight as she climbed with her daggers and gore slicked boots.

Finally she reached it's head, she could feel nothing but the ache, the tingle of magic and she planted her feet on the shoulders and forced her daggers into it's skull.

Then it exploded. Lindra tried to jump with the explosion but it was already too late and she flew up and then back down as if a ragdoll, instinctively she _shhing'd_ her daggers back in and put her hands out to catch herself, landing with a hard smack as her wrists jolted with the pain. "Motherfucking... Daniel - you could have warned me he would explode!" She ground out.

Then she looked over and saw Llars on the floor... Alistair on the floor... Daniel on the floor. Da'fen was nuzzling into the tattooed face of the Dalish elf and licking at the blood splattered there. "Wake up da'lethallin. The threat here is over." The Wynne shem ran past her with a bustle of robe skirts, shaking with the way she was tired and the blue glow that lit in her palms.

"He's lost too much blood." The elderly mage sighed, closing her eyes. Lindra got off the floor, feeling shards of her bones and the lancing pain in her knees and wrists as she stumbled over to the prone form.

"Daniel..." She grasped onto his robes and shook him. "You're staying alive damn you!" The other elf didn't respond, his pale blue eyes lifelessly looking up toward the ceiling.


	12. Questions

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Rated: T for angst and language. Trust me on the language part. Also contains m/m attraction.

Note: Sorry for killing another character. Hopefully I'll be able to abstain from more death for a while. But that's not a promise it's already planned if/when other characters die.

* * *

Llars reached forward and closed Daniel's eyes. He was supposed to come with him to meet the Dalish. To know what it was like to be celebrated for his gift of magic and not reviled. He wasn't allowed the be dead but it didn't change the fact.

"Emma ir abelas, souver'inan isala hamin, vhenan him dor'felas, in uthenera na revas." He spoke, bowing his head. They would have to burn him. Despite the Dalish burying their dead and planting the seed of a tree over the grave even Keepers needed be burnt. Demons could possess the dead. They would plant a seed in his ashes.

You only had one life. It could be taken so easily - he'd seen it and almost felt it when tainted by the darkspawn before becoming a Grey Warden. But that his fellow Warden had died on _his_ watch? Daniel hadn't even supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with their leader, the shemlen mage Warden was supposed to have been here. Would it have changed anything?

"Oh Maker..." He turned slowly to the rasped voice and met the sight of a very aged shemlen with a grey beard that was tucked into his belt, green robes with ornate gold detailing... covered in blood. "Is it over?"

"It is Irving." The Wynne shemlen replied, leaving Daniel's side to help the other shemlen from the floor. "Wardens... this is the First Enchanter."

Llars looked briefly at the cooling corpse of his fellow Warden again and took in a deep breath. "Andaran atish'an First Enchanter. I am the acting second in command of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, Llars Mahariel formerly of the Dalish Sabrae clan."

"Alistair." The shemlen templar spoke.

"Lindra Tabris. Grey Warden." Lindra croaked. "Daniel... used to be one of us." She stroked a hand on his odd vallaslin and closed her eyes.

"He is with the Creators lethallan. He is at peace." Llars soothed. He turned back to the First Enchanter shemlen and rolled his shoulders as he stood. "We were tasked to rescue the survivors of this tower and destroy the demonic threat. The shemlen Knight-Commander would only believe this task to have been successful if you were to assure him so."

The shemlen First Enchanter Irving took in a deep breath. "Then I had better make sure he believes the threat is over."

"If he does not he would invoke a Right of Annulment." Llars added sternly. He bent at the knees and hips and picked up Daniel from the floor, hefting him over his shoulder. He was surprisingly light and flopped without ceremony - it made him regret having moved him. "We must also see to our da'lethallin, he deserves proper rites performed for him."

"I know this may not seem the right time. But I have a few items... that the templars have collected over the years that I believe to be Dalish. As we pass my office would I be able to pass them onto you?" This Irving shemlen asked.

"You may." He answered.

* * *

Rose sat atop the battlements of Redcliffe castle, watching the sun rising over the vast waters of Lake Calenhad and the funeral barge being pushed out in the distance. No other reason for the flame on the lake. It was tradition for the villages and towns around the lake to perform their funerals as such. Even up on the Coastlands they preferred to burn the dead on the sea. It... made her think on what she would have to do when she returned to Highever eventually. The bodies would be long rotted away by then... It was small - but the night was clear and it stood out as a beacon. She took another drag off the cigarette before stamping the end under her boot. "Fuck me salroka! You can't be this high up and not shitting yourself!" She turned to see Una holding tightly to Jowan's britches as they both made their way along the stone.

"Kinloch Hold is higher... and if you look in the distance it's surrounded by water. I swam that entire distance. I'd never so much as paddled before in my entire life." Jowan smirked, pointing out across the horizon and the orange sky that painted the dark waters with orange glistening light. Una followed his pointing finger and stood there - almost rooted to the spot.

"Don't harry my Warden Recruit Jowan!" Rose sighed, the last of the smoke escaping her lungs. "I like it up here. It's peaceful."

"It's too sodding far from the ground." Una growled. "Peaceful is underground."

"Like a burial." She sucked in some of the cool night air.

"So... why do you want me as a Warden?" Jowan asked, sitting next to her.

"What would have happened if I didn't recruit you? Xavier said the most merciful thing was becoming this husk with no emotions." She almost wished for it herself. But these emotions confirmed she was still alive. Still painfully alive after so many people had died.

"You might still die of course." Una shrugged. "But you sparklefingers are pretty useful sometimes. Gotta hope you make it as a Warden."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He rolled his eyes.

"There isn't confidence here. Just death." Rose closed her eyes and felt the soft feather of the wind across her cheeks. She'd cried enough.

* * *

It had been the templar shem - Alistair that said they should burn their comrade on the waters. Lindra stood close to the bank of the lake, the chantry sister had been worried with how long they'd been in the tower. They'd lost Daniel and gained that Wynne shem. She'd been given leave to join them to give them magical forces in light of Daniel's death.

The whole camp was muted. Their proof of having the mage and templar troops, Emissary Pether - one of those Tranquil mages. It gave her a worrying feeling to have the emotionless man travelling with them. But it meant that their newly acquired troops could be called whenever they sent the man back. It wasn't as if they'd be able to travel with the twenty or so surviving mages and the templars... it would just be infeasible.

Lindra turned away from the blaze, her tears stinging her eyes as she sought out her tent, her yellow ribbon fluttering in the breeze. She crawled in and stripped her blood encrusted leather jerkin. She'd wash it tomorrow, treat it with oils to keep it supple. For now - sleep would be a welcome reprieve from the tumultuous events of the day.

The dawn would be breaking soon enough - it being a summer month. They'd fought demons and abomination all night - culminating in a death of one of their own. Hopefully the troops they'd garnered would help save lives against the Blight. Daniel's death couldn't be in vain. She might have only known the mage just over a week at tops but they'd been thrown into this situation together. None of them knowing what to do except for the blue-blood.

That was why they followed. They needed some guidance. To believe they could be Grey Wardens and save the country of their births from ripping at the seams.

* * *

Llars made sure they were up at the crack of dawn to continue. He'd not slept well for the vivid dreams of the Banalhan, the sight of his fellow Warden burning on the waters. He couldn't sleep. He sheathed his greatsword, sharpened and polished since it's last use in his scabbard on the holster he kept on his back. They broke camp easily enough, Lindra riding the horse Pale, the three shemlen speaking...

He had only Da'fen by his side and those four books gifted him by the First Enchanter. Two were old Dalish tomes, another a study into the language found in them... the last one. He couldn't make head nor tails of. It wasn't Dalish but the pictures within looked to be like the old magics that the Keepers used. He might ask of the shemlen mage if he could understand it.

He didn't trust the Wynne shemlen. She seemed to content with having been caged for her gifts. Mourned the loss of her feather pillow and easy life within walls. Why she'd felt so compelled to have joined him on this crusade that could very well end in her death was not something he could comprehend.

"You miss him too... Ir abelas Da'fen. I feel his loss too." He said aloud. The dog nodded along - truly more understanding than any other.

* * *

Una... loved beds. Arl Eamon had let them the use of the guest quarters in his castle. Understandably though - they didn't eat or drink any food offered. It was too risky.

Rose was being very twitchy about being in a castle again too. She was a noble right? She often saw her up on the battlements... the sky. Or wandering down to the town with her dog with the witchy sparklefingers discussing things. She didn't know what but she would come back in a slightly better mood than when she'd left.

Her stomach groaned and she found herself alone in the town, looking at the sheer size of the markets and the roasting meats one of the vendors was selling. She didn't know what it was - it looked like it used to have wings. "Hey - you're one of those Wardens aren't you?" The vendor said as she was looking at the meat, her stomach still growling.

"I am." She replied, tossing one of her dreadlocks out of her eyes. Sodding things always were getting in the way. She'd have to take a knife to them soon enough.

"You helped save the Arl didn't you?" He continued slicing thick into one of the birds on his spit. "Here - have something on the house. Don't know what we'd have done if that Orlesian bitch he married took over the Arling." He gratefully took the greased paper with hot meat in it.

"Thanks salroka. So how'd you know I were a Warden?" She asked, stuffing some of the stringy white meat in her mouth. Fucking Ancestors it was great!

"Only other dwarves in town are those merchants and Dwyn. You're the only female one." He shrugged.

"More dwarves?" She nodded. "This Dwyn got a brand like me?" Una poked her right cheek with her greased finger before stuffing more of the meat into her mouth, barely chewing with how much she wanted to eat it.

"Nah - heavier - got them over his whole face." The man gestured over his face. Sounded like the extensive duster ones or Legion. What was a Legionnaire doing in Redcliffe? Sod it - now she was all curious.

"Where's this Dwyn live? It's been ages since I spoke to another dwarva and I need a good beer." The man pointed over to a house over on some wooden area... that was over water. Sod. It. But she was curious. Una thanked the man again and wandered off to the house... very carefully testing the wooden slats as she walked on them. She didn't trust them.

* * *

Una knocked on the door. It felt - weird not to just let herself into a place. But surfacers were weird like this. "Is this where Dwyn lives?" She asked through the door, hoping he was in.

"Who wants to know?" Was a gruff reply as a scraping of something unlocking happened and the door cracked open - a figure the same height as her peeking out. "A brand?"

"Sodding brand at your service. You can call me Grey Warden though - fills me with warm fuzzies when people give me a little bit of sodding respect." Una smirked.

"What you want?"

"Well first of all - where can I get a decent pint? Secondly - where can I get a decent sword? Mine's too blunt to even drag a whetstone over again. I need something of dwarven quality and ain't gonna find it down at that blacksmith."

* * *

Rose wandered with Morrigan in the town. Using the witch as a sounding wall for what she planned to say at the Landsmeet was great actually. She was uninhibited to speaking her mind and poking holes in what she said. Like the ultimate verbal sparring partner. If she didn't understand what she said - she would voice it. She would ask why such intricacies were necessary - why not just state what was planned?

The answer of course was because you never showed your entire hand. Not many people could truly be trusted, and those that you could trust with any information you had to keep on a short leash. "The plan - is to place those you can sympathise with and garner allies with in places with more power. Those that betray that power you knock down. It's easy enough."

"Why not simply kill those untrustworthy? Tis a tiresome approach you choose." Morrigan sniffled.

"It makes them a martyr for a cause. In politics death can be viewed by both sides. A victory to some and something to rally and avenge for others. For example, Ferelden gaining independence was victory for us - we killed those completely in the wrong to us and placed traitors in low positions so they couldn't complain too much but so they could be watched. If you completely topple traitors they easily garner disenfranchised peoples to their cause and you don't want that." Rose explained. "Conversely Orlais would view it as something they plan on vengeance for, the people they chose in power killed and those they had thought loyal turned into allies. It's all very dagger under one throat, knife in the next side and broken bottle held onto the one that holds the dagger. One moves and they all do."

"Change the system. I find animals do not find such complex ways to place dominion over others." She shrugged.

"It is a pissing contest." Rose sighed. "But you have to aim proper."

"Ha! Finally you speak of something I understand! As crude as your choice in words." Morrigan smiled and snorted a short breath. "So this is all... another way for people to so choose who leads?"

"Leadership is important. You need a plan and the power to back it up as well as sheer luck. Maker's teeth - we have a slim chance of defeating a Blight but we'll most probably be fighting for years. Ten years minimum. The history of them shows it takes a while for the Archdemon to fully conquer countries, it likes to taint and destroy slowly so there is nothing but death behind their lines. The civil war will make it easier for any force to overwhelm us - darkspawn or no. We can hope to build a strong front and end the Blight before it can corrupt the whole of Ferelden." Rose looked about the town. "First step - civil war, second step is those treaties so we have a strong, large and most notably - varied standing army ourselves. Then we seek foreign troops."

"And if the archdemon seeks to destroy quicker than you intended?" Morrigan drawled.

"We move faster with the allies we have." Rose answered. "We need to use them... like pawns. We're all pawns at the end of it all, no more significant than another."

* * *

They couldn't have been a day from Redcliffe, just past a small hamlet village called Greenlea when the woman ran into her. Lindra... didn't know what to do. Pale was spooked by her.

The shem was crying and mucky - babbling about a darkspawn attack on her caravans. "We're Grey Warden's ma'am - we'll end them but I'm afraid your caravans might have been lost." Alistair answered her.

"Oh thank you!" She sobbed. "I'll show you the way!"

"I do not trust that shemlen." Llars said as they followed the running, sobbing woman in the dusky pink dress. "Your kind templar... they have not apprehended her and she has the gift of magic. I felt it."

"I still find it weird you sense magic." Alistair answered. "I thought only templars and mages did."

"That is because you do not expect da'len born of mages." Llars replied. "I do not remember you having authority over us though. This attack may be too large for this group and the one with magic may take her frustrations at having lost her possessions at us. We may have to defend ourselves against her magic."

"Lindra here seems almost immune to magic. Like a dwarf." The templar retorted. Lindra furrowed her brow, rocking with the horse as they were still running.

"You call be a dwarf and Una'll poke me in the ribs. It hurts." She quipped.

The scene the shem woman had lead them into... it was destruction. Bodies in cheap leather outfits bloodied on the floor, a caravan ablaze and the mules pulling it slaughtered.

Then one of the figures was getting up. She could sense no darkspawn here or elsewhere. Pre-emptively she got from the horse and made sure her pack was accessible. From this place she could see... the figure was elven!

"The Grey Wardens die here!" The elf called out, a distinctive accent that she couldn't place, unsheathing twin dagger from shoulder scabbards. The shem that had lead them here was grinning feral and lightning shot from her fingertips at Llars.

The bodies seemed to reanimate from then on - very much alive and wielding bows and daggers.

Lindra shot into the undergrowth and watched for her moments to strike when Alistair did that magic draining thing and ran his sword through the shem woman who'd lead them here. The Wynne shem shot blue magics at Llars as he was powering through the men in their leathers, anger fuelling his moments.

That's when Lindra sprang. Her daggers _shhing'd_ from her wrists and she caught that elf who'd demanded their deaths as he parried her move. Damned assassins! She backed off and sprang again, this time stabbing him in his right bicep and causing him to lose grip of his main hand dagger. She grinned despite the situation and ducked low as his left hand dagger swiped at her, bringing her knee up and catching him in the groin as she swiped out her own daggers and hamstringed him.

He wouldn't get up again. That was for sure. And it seemed... as she was fighting - everyone else had finished. Way to help her guys! The swell of rejuvenating magic lit up her senses and she nodded at the shem mage in brief thanks. Their emissary Pether was unharmed, having stood by Pale throughout the fighting unperturbed by the deaths.

"I recognise that heraldry on his leathers." The chantry sister gasped. "They are Antivan Crows!"

"The who-y what?" Alistair questioned.

"Professional assassins, renowned for always killing their marks so to speak. I do wonder who would send them, they are expensive and hard to contact - it would be someone who truly detests you no?" She answered. "I suggest tying up that elf Lindra was fighting and questioning him - he breathes still. It is what your leader would do no? Gather such informations to use?"

"That is what she would do." Llars answered. "So tie him up and... shemlen... Wynne? Heal him so he is able to speak."

* * *

Llars stood in crouch in front of the other elf and waited for him to wake up. The elf blearily stared upwards, groaning. "Argh." He groaned again. "I had thought I'd wake up dead. If I woke up at all." He looked at them, narrowing his eyes. "But I see you haven't killed me yet."

"We have questions assassin. And I am willing to torture you to retrieve the answers." Llars spoke. The thought of harming another elf disgusted him but this one had attempted to kill them. It also stood to reason that getting a reason behind this attempt on their lives would bring useful information.

"Ho ho! As enjoyable as that may be - let me save you some time no? My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, so hired to kill any surviving Grey Wardens. A task I have so very poorly done and failed at - sadly." Llars stared quizzically at him. The delusional shemlen who sang under her breath was correct about something.

"I am glad you failed." He narrowed his eyes and glanced down. He felt stirrings of pity at seeing the man in bonds. He'd ordered one of the elven to be in just a position that he looked as a slave. He couldn't think straight.

"Why would you come all the way from Antiva just to kill us?" Lindra asked.

"I was not in Antiva." This Zevran shrugged. "I happened to be in the neighbourhood when I heard of a contract for nomadic Grey Wardens and thought 'why not'?"

"Tell me Zevran, who wishes to have us Grey Wardens killed?" Llars levelled, his grey eyes boring into those pale brown ones. Creators... his breathing stilled a moment. These thoughts were not crossing his mind but he felt some odd... kinship toward him.

"Ah! While it was a man with a rather beaky nose who originally contacted myself - I cannot remember his name. All I remember is the taciturn fellow he lead me to for approval. Loghain I believe that taciturn fellow to have been?"

Llars heard the shemlen templar growl under his breath and Da'fen yap at him in response. "Does that mean you're loyal to Loghain Zevran?" The templar ground out.

"Not precisely, no. I have no idea what his issues with the Grey Wardens are - in Antiva you are seen as notoriously difficult to kill. I assume it is the usual though - you threaten his power and so he wishes to be done with you si? Beyond what I know - I am not loyal to him. I was contracted to do a service." Zevran made a quick frowning grimace. Llars was glad in a way that he'd listened to the delusional shemlen's advice and gone to questioning Zevran. He was - singing like a bird? That was the expression. Hopefully, this would make Rose forgive his transgression of recruiting the delusional shemlen to begin with; while he did not bow to her, she was their leader and Creators take him he was nothing but loyal of command. Not that she'd be pleased that there were people out to kill them of course? He was confused on the matter - he'd always been wary of shemlen but she had instantly disarmed him from the moment she'd tried to speak Elvhen.

"When were you going to see _Loghain_ next?" Their templar glowered. Lindra snorted and a peal of laughter rang from her throat.

"Assassins don't go back to the contractor! People would know who ordered the killing shem!" This Zevran nodded in her direction.

"Precisely no? I wasn't to return to him. I would have returned to Antiva in my cell in the Crows, my living being proof the contract had gone as planned - Loghain would have been subtly informed that it had been successful." He looked at a patch of his own blood on the ground. "You see - if I failed, I should be dead at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain either way si?"

"Before you awoke the delusional shemlen said Crows are expensive, how much were you paid Zevran?" Llars asked.

"I am not delusional!" The delusional shemlen herself spoke. Ah! So glad she knew he was talking about her.

"A matter you all shall discuss later I assume. Regardless - myself? I was paid nothing, the Crows themselves, quite handsomely." Zevran shrugged again in his bonds. Llars furrowed his brow. That didn't make sense.

"Why are you a Crow then?" He asked.

"Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition I suppose it's because I wasn't given much of a choice." Llars nodded, he understood joining something because of lack of choice. Zevran looked again into his eyes and overwhelming sadness radiated from them. "The Crows bought me young, at a bargain too or so I am lead to believe. But do not let my sad story convince you it was all darkness. They kept one well supplied, wine, women, men - whatever you happen to fancy." Llars felt his cheeks heat at the thought.

"Why are you telling us all this?" The Alistair shemlen questioned.

"Why not!" Zevran chuckled. "I wasn't paid for my silence - not that I offered it for sale precisely. I did not assume I was to be interrogated by those I was sent to assassinate." Llars snorted. He'd never have imagined interrogating someone who attempted to kill him or one of the clan. It would have been a matter of killing them first and the clan would move again.

"You're _not_ loyal to Loghain?" The templar shemlen sounded shocked.

"Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish - and you have done interrogating me - perhaps we may discuss it further?" Llars wrinkled his brow again. That sounded... odd.

"Ma nuvenin, I am listening." Llars met the assassin's gaze again - this time sincerity seemed to show from those pale brown eyes.

"Well - here's the thing. I failed to kill you so my life is forfeit to the Crows or yourselves, that's how it works. This is - I like living and you all seem the sort that can give Crows such as myself pause. So... let me serve you instead." The way Zevran had said 'serve' simultaneously spiked hot in Llars' chest and repulsed him. Elves were not supposed to serve.

"Why would we want you? What can you offer assassin?" The templar snorted. He sounded fed up by it all.

"Why indeed!" He cracked jovially. "I am skilled in many things from fighting to stealth to picking locks. I could also warn you of future Crow attacks should it be heard I failed so. I also know a great many jokes, twelve massage techniques, six different card games! I would be wonderful at parties!" Llars couldn't help but both blush and snort a laugh. The thought of those hands that tried to kill them... massaging. Why was he thinking this? This was... the perfect way to get what should have come to him for having left Tamlen to die.

"What would you have in return Zevran?" He felt the smile tugging at his lips... he shouldn't be thinking such things but there were worse ways to die. Zevran... now that he properly looked, was a very attractive man. His skin was sun-kissed, his hair golden flax and those eyes expressive and full of mirth when they needed to be. Llars felt that strange attraction he'd felt for Tamlen for this Zevran. He couldn't believe it himself, but... he wanted to let Zevran live and have him along.

"Being alive would be nice, and it would make me marginally more useful to you unless you are into that sort of thing. Plus - should you decide you no longer have need of me, I can leave. Until then - I am yours." Zevran smirked. That spike of heat and shame of ownership burned on Llars' cheeks. Creators damn him but there was something magnetic about this assassin. Why was he such a fool?

"They're flirting! Maker's breath!" The templar groaned. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to flirt with a thing trying to kill you Llars?"

"Shh... I want to hear something corny." Lindra was giggling as she whispered. Let the lethallan giggle.

"What would stop you from putting a dagger in me?" Llars bit his lip. He was acting like a da'len now. He was sure of it. This was the oddest way to realise that you... how did Zevran put it... fancy someone. But he actually did.

"Yes! Maker's toenails that was great!" Lindra hissed excitedly. "Now kiss him! On the lips!"

"You're way too excitable." The templar groaned.

"But it is cute! A story of our stoic leader and a flirty assassin falling in love!" The delusional shemlen cheered.

"That was cheesier than The Rose of Orlais!" The mage shemlen Wynne added with an amused tone.

"It seems they think there is some natural chemistry between us no?" Zevran arched an eyebrow at him. "But in seriousness to your question, my only chance at living is to sign up with one the Crows cannot touch. Should I return they would surely kill me in my failure now. In all honesty I would rather try my chances with you." Llars sank... of course. This Zevran wanted to live.

Llars moved forward and pulled the boot knife out of Zevran's leather boot and cut the rope bonds. "You are free to do as you wish Zevran. I will not commit a fellow elf to slavery and you may join us if you wish also."

"Then I choose - to join you." Zevran flexed his wrists and reached out for his daggers, sheathing them on the scabbards on his shoulders. He stood as Llars did and put his hand out. Llars reached forward and took it. "I am yours mi amigo for the gift of my life. I solemnly hold this oath until you choose I am no longer welcome."

"We're going to take the assassin with us!" The templar shemlen gasped. "Does that _really_ sound like a good idea?"

"Shh... I want to see them kiss!" Lindra snapped. "Llars needs to let loose doesn't he?"

"Er..." The templar blushed. "He tried to kill us! If we just said we were desperate for allies that was how we did it." Llars was actually blushing so much he was sure there couldn't be any discernible difference between his tan skin and his deep burgundy vallaslin.

"I think having an Antivan Crow with us sounds a fine plan. Darkspawn should need assassinating no?" The delusional shemlen smiled and Llars felt slightly better... the shemlen seemed to be able to think as Rose would. If she thought this a good idea...

"Oh - are you to be a future companion? I wasn't aware aware sure loveliness was found amongst adventurers surely!" Zevran laughed. Suddenly Llars felt a bit off... this was a weird feeling.

"Or maybe it was not a good idea." The delusional shemlen narrowed her eyes at the elven assassin.

"You Grey Wardens certainly are... different in the way you form allies." The mage shemlen pursed her lips. "I hope one of you is able to counteract the effects of poisons."

"One of my many specialities." Lindra smiled. "A good poisoner always keeps their counters close."

"An excellent point!" Zevran grinned.

"Come on - we have to be in Redcliffe by sundown. We have spent long enough still on our way. Rose will think her plan on the Banalhan and civil war is not being put into action." Llars watched as the Tranquil shemlen helped Lindra mount the horse Pale again and took point as the leader in the walking.

* * *

"So... why do you call the blue-blood by her name?" Lindra asked, licking her fingers of the pickle that had oozed from her sandwich. She'd never seen their Dalish sort-of leader call their proper leader, let alone many shems, by their proper name. In fact, the blue-blood might be the only one.

"It is respect. There are choices and decisions that she is able to make that many of us would falter. She has a plan." He answered, idly stroking Da'fens muzzle as he stuffed the heel of his sandwich into his mouth.

"You are not all of the Grey Wardens?" Zevran asked.

"No. There's the blue-blood - Rose. There's a dwarf - Una. And there's a shem mage too - Xavier." Lindra shrugged. "The blue-blood is our leader - she has a plan and... she's disarming."

"Disarming? She's a bitch!" Alistair groaned. "I haven't ever seen anyone else manage to cow a Qunari into submission."

"I don't think Sten is cowed into what she wants." Lindra paused a moment, trying to think on everything she'd seen. "Llars - you spoke to him more than I did. What do you think makes Sten follow?"

"He is a warrior, one that appraises power, skill and role. We each have our own roles and stick to them. Rose may be our leader but she mainly talks to get her point across from what I have seen. There is a manipulative streak in that shemlen a mile wide. She is probably used to having her own way." He patted Da'fen to get up with him and motioned for everyone else to stand and continue. Lindra had seen that manipulative streak in action when she'd bought items, when she'd explained her plans. There was no doubt about it but the blue-blood knew how to do things without resorting to blood being spilt.

"This Rose," The Wynne shem furrowed her already wrinkled brow. "how did she come to lead you all?"

"She commanded the Highever men at Ostagar. Saved us Wardens on the field that she could by the skin of her teeth." Lindra shrugged. "Her troops died because the signal was late and we got overwhelmed. Xavier, Una and myself were lucky to get out alive."

"She commanded troops?" The shem sounded surprised.

"She was a blue-blood. Daughter of the Teyrn I think. Can't remember." Lindra swung her leg over Pale and clicked out her neck. "Why so curious?"

"I had thought to understand the Grey Wardens I will likely be travelling with for the Blight." Wynne answered evenly. "Now this Una? You say she is a dwarf did you not?"

"Una can be funny." Alistair smirked. "And she definitely had some sort of hard life, she calls everyone 'sal' something or other. Then again - that mage calls every lady 'dear'. He's a bit odd."

"Ah Xavier. One of my own pupils before he tutored others himself. Would you believe he has a temper on him?" Lindra snorted at that information.

"Really? He seems placid for a shemlen." Llars cleared his throat and looked troubled for a moment before making sure he was far in the lead from others.

"So... a shem with a temper. Never heard that one before." Lindra drawled from atop the horse. "Glad to be so resistant to magic now."

"The anger is mainly at..." Wynne shook her head. "It isn't my place to tell any of you. Forget I said a word."


	13. Attraction

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Rated: T - because of Zevran and his innuendos. Plus a bit of language.

Note: I am dreadfully sorry for how long this chapter took to write - the schedule will be to update once every two weeks from now on due to work and other stuff. Love to all readers - especially if they review! Only a half update - because it's filler before shit hits the fan.

* * *

The Dalish elf managed to get his group in Redcliffe during the breakfasting. Rose had given up in the not eating the food here, so hungry and not able to get a simple meal cooked herself - even trying made for burnt offerings. Buttered scrambled eggs laced with general poison counter in her apple juice after every bite wasn't the best of meals - but it was satisfying to have her stomach full.

It was the knight Ser Perth that had announced that a group comprised of three elves, a mongrel mabari and three humans had arrived and said they were the second group of Grey Wardens in the country. Rose looked up at the brown-haired knight with the kind smile and wiped her mouth and chin from the greases, running down the halls. She needed to tell Llars what had happened when they'd arrived here. And she needed to hold a dagger under a certain bastard prince's throat. Maybe not - seeing as she was going to make him King but there would be very heated words.

Rose would make sure he understood how close he could have been to creating complete instability in the country because Eamon would definitely have said something - if not to her but to the entire Landsmeet.

* * *

Una, the Qunari and two sparklefingers followed after their surprisingly fast leader. Not much of a surprise considering her sodding long legs but shitting Ancestors! They'd just been eating! Wasn't fun to run with a belly full of food.

The sight wasn't was what she expected though. The three elves looked very different - unless Daniel had soaked up the sun and re-arranged that tattoo he had that wasn't their other sparklefingers. "WHAT!" That was that sodding tall leader of theirs.

"Kinloch Hold had become taken by a force of abominations and demons, lead by Senior Enchanter Uldred who turned out to be a blood mage. Young Ser Surana gave his life to help end the threat there." Una didn't know that voice - it was the old lady by the look of it. And would you look at that! A stick like the other sparklefingers - this one had that weird arse magic too.

"We had problems ourselves too salroka." Una pursed her lips and took a deep breath. This was going to be a fun conversation.

* * *

Lindra was surprised when she heard they'd managed to cure the poison known as Andraste's Grace. An expensive one, she'd once smuggled a shipment for it when she needed the coin. Then they had to explain the presence of both Zevran and Wynne. The blue-blood explained the presence of Jowan. She couldn't stop looking at him... he looked like he needed a hug - it was ridiculous how she wanted to comfort him. At Ostagar she'd tried to hug Llars and got pushed to the floor - she'd tried to comfort Alistair and got angry at how petty he had been. But this Jowan - it was almost a drive she had in wanting to hug the living crap out of him. A shem! Maker preserve her!

In the end though - she got the shock of her life. "And did the templar sitting over there trying not to meet the gaze of anyone tell any of you who his father is?" She hmmed and everyone shook their heads. This was confusing. "Only King Maric. No big deal of course - we've just got the next King of this country in our ranks."

"Maker's breath! I don't want to be King!" Alistair groaned. "There's a reason I didn't say anything!"

"Would that be - I'm a selfish bastard prince who knows Arl Eamon will introduce this information to the nobility so I can then watch the country get destabilised over the fact at least half of it will be actually go to all out war to put me there? Hmm? Or would it be the complete lack of responsibility you have over being the most senior Warden alive now and making one of the junior ones lead?" The blue-blood arched her eyebrow, retaining a straight-backed posture in her seat and awaiting a reaction. Everyone had been shocked into quiet submission - that is except their resident dwarf.

"Ain't such a marvel. That Aeducan bitch killed her brother and she was a proper princess." Una shrugged. "Don't stop speaking on my account though. Might see if Eamon has nug in the larder so I can eat while the shouting starts."

"See! I knew I'd get treated differently! If it's not people thinking I'm a worthless waste of space for being a bastard - it's them thinking I need have some sort of airs!" He shook his head. "I'm a Grey Warden. It's all I ever wanted to be."

"Oh I still think the first one." The blue-blood answered evenly. "So... leaving this issue to be stewed over, I now how it now fits into my plan. I need to know how we shall continue. I believe if we split again - part of our forces off to bring the treaty to the Dalish and the other half to Denerim for the Landsmeet? We also need to find out how quickly the darkspawn are moving. Rumour arrived yesterday of Lothering having been destroyed and that is a two hour walk from Ostagar. Considering the week walk to Redcliffe and if they move in a direct line rather than fanning in a circle - it takes them a week to taint and destroy each hour worth of land. We have twelve weeks - each day losing more land until we have lost a path a third of the way up Ferelden. If they spread in ever increasing circles... I estimate half a year, 26 weeks."

"Are you asking our opinion?" Llars asked. "I know I would be best suited in both finding the clans travelling Ferelden in this time of year as well as getting to speak to the Keeper themselves."

"I appreciate all opinions present." She nodded. Lindra snorted. "Something amusing?"

"Just never thought I'd hear a blue-blood listen to an elf." She pursed her lips. "If you want mine - I'd like to go back to Denerim - see my family. But I'd like to meet a whole Dalish clan."

"We should have time. My clan moved north when I left. It should be some time before another clan returns to Ferelden - we allow the ground to heal after being encamped for any length of time." Llars shrugged. "I am also... curious as to how the elvhen can live in cities lethallan - it would be interesting to have seen with my own eyes what life I might have had if I were born elsewhere - if you would allow me to meet your family." Lindra was shocked into being unable to speak and her gaze drifted to the silent mage with the black hair.

"I got no preference but trees give me the jeepers." Una shrugged. Llars shot her a questioning look.

"Then as soon as Eamon has fully recovered from his poisoning - we all leave for Denerim with him." The blue-blood stood. "I'm sure you're all in need of baths and food. I'll inform the staff here of your requirements. Also - Lindra... I'd like to speak with you in private."

Lindra stood. This was it. The blue-blood would show her true colours. She kept her main hand dagger ready to _shhing_. She wasn't going down without a fight. She glanced at Jowan again. He looked like a child caught with his fingers caught in a cookie jar by his mother at being left to his own devices.

"So... prince. Did you know the King of Antiva is of bastard blood sixteen times over?" An accented voice broke the silence of the room.

"Maker's breath. Please can you be quiet? If I don't have to be King I'm not going to be."

* * *

Rose leant into the desk and pulled a long leather case from the drawer she'd appropriated. Lindra was shifting uncomfortably on the spot and she held it out without ceremony. "Open it. You'll like it."

"What are you on blue-blood?" The black-haired elf narrowed her eyes as she pulled the ties open and peered into the case. "A flute?"

"You play don't you?" She asked. "I thought you'd like it. We all left things in Ostagar - personal possessions." Rose took a deep breath in. "I'd like to see you smile once in a while and I've always had a thing for giving things."

"You want me to play for you don't you?" Rose widened her eyes. Shit. "I'm not a servant you know."

"I didn't mean it like that! I saw how happy you looked when you held your flute! Call it - living vicariously through others. I know I won't be happy again - not properly." Lindra seemed disarmed, her mouth slightly open.

"Thank you... Rose."

"As nice it is to hear you say my name - I'd prefer it if you would teach me how to use daggers actually - it's rather amusing to be called blue-blood. I thought the flute could be a peace offering or a bit of payment for the time." It was Rose's turn to feel awkward and Lindra looked down at the flute in her hands, it was walnut, carved beautifully and had her name engraved into the side in loving sweeping lettering.

"I can teach you basics. Zevran might be better though. I'll get Llars to speak to him." The elf smirked.

"Can't I speak to him?" Rose asked. It would be an idea to understand why Llars had spared his life after extracting information from the other elf.

"Oh no - we'll be testing our stealth skills if you want to learn to fight like me. You should also see how cute Llars is - he totally fancies Zevran and Zevran flirts with anything that moves. I swear - the templar and elderly mage shems weren't even safe. 'Oh Wynne - is that a magical bosom you have?'." Lindra snorted. "You aren't weird over men liking other men are you?"

"Not at all..." Rose pursed her lips in a tight pinch. "And Llars deserves someone to make him happy."

* * *

Llars was very confused when the two women had come to him looking coyly and asking him to speak to Zevran about teaching Rose in dagger wielding. Nevertheless... he was going to comply. To train in something else so their leader could fight better against the Banalhan would be a good thing. He caught sight of the assassin sitting out by the straw dummies for such training and sharpening his daggers with a whetstone.

"Zevran... I should like to speak with you." He announced his presence. He felt like he was being watched though... like there were Wardens nearby from the warm pulse in his veins. Obviously there were others about though - there were six of them about somewhere as well as wherever Da'fen had wandered.

"Ah go ahead mi amigo. I am hardly busy." He shrugged and slipped his daggers into his shoulder sheaths and put the whetstone down, reclining easily and crossing his legs over. Llars fought the growl in his throat - he'd done the leg crossing on purpose. He knew the assassin would use whatever trick he could to get in their good books. He would have to earn such a place - not by trying to take advantage of him.

"One of my fellow Grey Wardens has shown an interest in dagger skills. She hoped you could help teach her." He straightened his back out. He would not allow this other man to affect him so. He was elvhen; the Keeper had made it perfectly clear that such relations could be pursued as long as the continuation of their dying race was kept in the forefront of his mind.

"Would that be the one as cold as an icicle in the heart or the one with the poison affinity? I highly doubt the one of short stature would find daggers so useful with the sword she has strapped to her back at all times." Llars was taken aback by the very apt description of their leader. It had never occurred to him that she was just so - cold and calculating, pushing them onwards with a singular determination. Her compassion - if she'd ever had any - just wasn't there.

"It would be the leader of the group." He pursed his lips and swore he heard a whisper that sounded vaguely like 'icicle - I'll show him a dagger to the heart'.

* * *

Lindra had to hold Rose's shoulders to stop her from pulling her boot knife on the assassin from their shadows. "He must know we're here." She hissed under her breath.

"If that Blighted assassin wants a icicle - I'll show him a dagger to the heart." Rose hissed back. Lindra slammed a hand over her mouth and narrowed her eyes.

"Quiet. They'll know the gig is up." She pressed them both further into the shadows and she saw Llars lean down to whisper something to Zevran. She was almost itching to hear it and strained on her elven hearing for a hint.

The only words she got were - 'dagger' and 'wherever you can put it'. Maker's breath if that was his innuendoes she'd give a leg to see something. Lindra... really wanted to see something.

"Such words might get you in trouble my dear Warden. Just think of all the women who would have a conniption fit to hear that the great Zevran Arainai were off the market as it were." Lindra blushed bright red, her cheeks heating and she rubbed her thighs together. That shouldn't be so damned hot! She was damned to the Void. That was obvious. She could swear she hadn't been this damned horny before... not ever!

It had started about a day after she'd become a Grey Warden. That could be an interesting conversation to have with Alistair. 'Hey - did you know if becoming a Grey Warden makes you want to be a complete perv and then shag everything too?' that would be so much fun. Both of them would turn the most vivid shades of red ever.

"Come on - I'm going to scream if we have to listen any longer." Lindra deftly stood up and pulled their leader with her and back up to the window they'd slipped out of that was behind a pillar. It was as if it'd been put there for this purpose.

She braced her back against the pillar and shuffled up as she walked up the wall before jumping forward through the open window. she watched as the blue-blood scaled the wall without the support of the pillar and slipped into the window.

Lindra stretched out and sighed. "Like climbing? I bet you were all salamanders and scraped knees when you were a smaller whelp."

"You've got it in one." Rose brushed some of her hair back and picked up her winged helmet from the dresser where they'd left it, buckling it under her chin. "You are completely right about Llars and Zevran though."

"You getting these weird feelings too then? Like you'd jump the bones of a certain mage with black hair and puppy dog eyes?" She slammed a hand over her mouth.

"Jowan? Maker no... wait - you like Jowan?" Rose arched an eyebrow.

"I didn't say anything!" Lindra muffled through her fingers.

"Void you didn't." She replied, crossing her arms. "Let me put it this way. Make sure nothing gets in the way of your being a Grey Warden and part of this mismatched team and there won't be a problem."

"Yes ma'am." Lindra nodded, gulping. She couldn't believe she'd said that out loud. She didn't like him like that did she?


	14. Poetry

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Rated: M - language, scheming, m/m smut and very very bad limericks - blame Lindra and Jowan there. (I will place an asterisk - * - at the start of the smut scene if you are not interested and you can skip it until you see the next asterisk)

Open note: I would like some artwork please! I've found if I try to draw it really makes my ganglions and therefore my arthritis flare up. So I'd love it if there's anyone selling their soul in artwork to pop me a PM. Thankies in advance.

* * *

Eamon was stalling for this landsmeet. Rose was sure of it. He wanted to make sure he had his lackeys and vassals on his side. A good Arl should be sure of such things. Then again... having lived through the betrayal in Highever, she was sure that she might have done a similar course of action. Howe has been a vassal of her father.

But it left the Grey Wardens and their allies idle. That wouldn't do - if this was all the purpose she had left in the world then damn it she was going to work with it. She called the lot of them into the main hall come late afternoon and expressly asked for the room to themselves as they sat at the great long table, Llars and herself in twin chairs at the head of it.

"We need to act swiftly to gain our allies against the Blight." Rose started. "While the political side of ending the civil war is happening we must ensure the ancient treaties as gifted us by Flemeth or Asha'bellanar or whatever we've decided she is - are upheld. My second in command has bent over backward in order to get us both the aide of the mages and the templars. These people will supplement the army lost at Ostagar greatly but we will need more."

"Excuse me Commander." The monotone broke her flow and she turned to Emissary Pether. "The templars never formally agreed to lend aide against the Blight."

"Excuse me my dear, I should have expected that ever since Llars himself said they would stand with us, but those bastards!" Xavier slammed a fist on the table. "So we have how many mages Pether? How many survived?"

"Fifteen Warden." Pether answered.

"We went into this without the templar forces." Llars intoned. "We need not the sword of your Chantry. They will likely interfere with our mages gained. Our fifteen strong with the gift of magic will be much more valuable." He looked down at the map laid out in front of him and gestured at the treaties. "It is obvious that we cannot ask for more than what was given us despite the destructive power of the Banalhan. People from all walks of life have forgotten how much Grey Wardens are needed. It has been a long time since the last Banalhan no?"

Rose raked a hand through her hair, loose and still damp from the bath she'd had not an hour ago and took in a deep breath. "Our forces are fifteen mages and the Redcliffe garrison. I had hoped for more and I will address this matter in time. I require every able bodied man and woman and doubt there were but fifteen survivors. Did they send word to Jainen? They should have more mages for us."

"They did." Pether replied.

"That's in our favour then." She looked over the map. "Llars mentioned that he knows the routes the Dalish travel in Ferelden. He can anticipate when another clan will be present to answer us and the treaty. That makes it easier and gives us time that would have been spent searching for them to do other things. This leaves us with the dwarven treaty. Una - thoughts?"

"That's unexpected." Una laughed. "Just ask the dwarf if the dwarva would honour a treaty with the Grey Wardens. I know sod all salroka. In fact... I know this - there's a Grey Warden compound in Orzammar that houses the Wardens, every able bodied warrior with a caste ogles the place like it's made a gold."

"That's good information actually. That we have a permanent base of operations. I had hoped we wouldn't always be in tents." Rose replied with a sigh. "Cari was the daughter of the sitting King of the dwarves though. Would you know his position on the darkspawn and Grey Wardens?"

"Pretty sure he likes 'em. When I were with Kalder I got ta stay in the Royal Palace coz we were going into the deep roads to help the army."

"The army as commanded by Cari I assume." Rose butted in. "I think you should tell us this story about how you and Cari came to be Grey Wardens. It might have some significance."

"Okay. You've been warned though." Una shrugged and reached for the nearest stein, flipping the lid at the top and taking a long gulp of the ale within. "That's fucking good by the way. Ancestors arse it don't even have dirt in it."

Then she launched into a tale about how she was a carta thug, business as usual - kill this person, poison that one but don't kill him. Shake that one by the ankles until his mother's teeth fall out if needs be. Until she ended up imprisoned for fighting in a tourney of sorts under the guise of being another person called Everd. "A fine warrior should not be limited by birth but by skill." Sten interrupted.

"I couldn't have said it any better." Una chuckled. "Anyways - I fight in the Proving, everyone's cheering for Everd and sayin' how the Ancestors blessed me and some other shit. Regardless - who should stumble onto the field but Everd himself - drunk off his arse and sayin' I'm wearing his armour."

"Oh intrigue! Your story is so rife with life as you've always known it. It is thrilling to hear." The Orlesian smiled. Una glanced over to her sideways and smirked. Rose rolled her eyes. She'd have preferred it if they never had picked up the woman but from all accounts she'd been the one to look after Pale the most and seemed handy enough wit her bow. It meant she was trustworthy enough to be stablehand. She would have to watch her closely though.

"Ain't over yet. Best bit comes later." The dwarf flipped the stein lid again and took another gulp. "So I kill him but everyone wants to see my face. These guards corner me and rip of me helmet. There's a big kerfuffle coz I'm a duster. I get knocked out and thrown in jail with my mate Leske."

Una continued to tell how she woke up not in the Orzammar jail but the one owned by the carta, the carta boss' girlfriend Jarvia baying for their blood as they awoke. Una then persuaded one of their jailers to come over to her cell as 'a last tumble could be a thrill' bashed his head on the bars - nicked his keys, freed her friend and herself. Found her old belongings and slaughtered her way out with this Leske until they ended up killing the carta boss - Beraht.

"Then I'm cornered by Orzammar guards again when I'm running back to Dust Town. Figured I'd steal my mother and sister away and live on the surface. I owe no carta my allegiance no more and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let another slimeball touch my sister again. Kalder was passing through - heard me say how I did them a favour in killing Beraht and conscripted me on the spot. I made Leske promise to look after my family and we were off to the palace for these nibbly cheese things and nug sandwiches."

"I'm glad someone else here likes cheese!" Alistair smiled at the dwarf.

"Aegis does too. I suggest hiding it until you can put your cheese in the royal pantry." Rose drawled, watching him squirm. "Do continue Warden Una."

"Right. So I meet the King and these three squabbling brats he called children and their offspring. Trian was the heir, Cari the commander of the armies and Bhelen... sod it if I know. Regardless. Plans get drawn up and Kalder and me get put in the main army to clear Aeducan Thaig of some darkspawn. Smelly place with no light other than these runestones you stick on your armour. So we glow like torches in these Ancestor forsaken tunnels. Commander Cari gets shoved in this side mission all about glory and some ratty shield."

The next bit wasn't pretty. Una then went on to describe in great detail that she and Kalder with four Grey Warden human archers were separated from the main army and ended up crashing through a crumbling wall. They found Cari repeatedly stabbing her older brother with her serrated daggers until the King, his second Pyral Harrowmont and Prince Bhelen walked in and from then on it descended to the Void ever further. The Wardens for being there at the wrong place in the wrong time get sent to the deep roads with no armour or weapons.

"So going to Orzammar... would be a terrible idea." Rose finally breathed. "Or would the grudge only be beholden to yourself and Kalder? Seeing as Cari is no longer with us?"

"King didn't look too bothered with us Wardens being there. He saw we were dusty from falling through loose rock and that we weren't part of the killing of his spawn. Was that bastard Harrowmont that tried to do us in. Anyways - I was telling a story. The only ones of us that came out those deep roads through a secret passageway Kalder knew of were Cari, me and him. Other Blighters lost their lives. Turned out Cari was a bit of a whizz with poisons and stuff. Blew up one of the darkspawn into sludge without even denting his armour. Fucking gorgeous stuff so I nicked it and still wear it. Looks spiffy don't it?"

"You wear darkspawn armour?" Lindra choked out, bits of her ale spluttered over the table.

"Darkspawn don't deserve nice things and it were nicked from the Legion of the Dead anyway. I were just nicking it back and putting it to good use. Didja know they like coins and shiny gems too? Neat loot after a day of killing shitty darkspawn. So we escape through this tiny little hole that's big enough for one a us to get through a time. Fuck me - the sky was so far away and it were pitch black with those star things twinkling. Kalder pushes me out the way as this ugly genlock bugger is trying to get out after us. Stabs him in the head with a looted dagger and blocks up the hole. We made it pretty swift down to Ostagar after that."

"Cari still had her serrated daggers on her." Alistair mused aloud.

"Well Princess was a one for all that stealthy stuff and batting her eyelids. Harrowmont gave them to her before the rest a us got shoved in the deep roads." Una shrugged and drained the last of her stein. "So that about answers your questions about Orzammar and what your plans are for the King and other shit?"

"You've been more helpful than you imagine." Rose nodded, taking a deep breath. Maker her head was hurting. If Ferelden politics weren't bad enough, dwarven ones sounded even messier. "So from the sound of it all. The King would be amenable to talking to, his advisor? Harrowmont? Would be a disaster. It's almost fortuitous that Cari isn't alive because she'd complicate this so much. We go to Orzammar, get this treaty sighed and sealed, some Emissary like Pether here to come with us and maybe some conscripting of talented sorts. The darkspawn come from the deep roads I gather so the dwarves will respect us I assume for our part in killing darkspawn?"

"Oh too rightly." Una smiled. "My original plan before I got caught for the shit I got up to was to finish paying Beraht and march into the Grey Warden compound, beat up some Wardens and get myself conscripted. Even casteless are equals to normal dwarva in Orzammar if they're Grey Wardens and everyone knew the quickest way to get in was to hurt someone. Killing a Grey Warden in Orzammar is still a death sentence by the way."

"Then it's settled. We procure these dwarven allies of ours with minimum fuss, talking to the King and no other. No killing people, we're respectful and we come back to Redcliffe post-haste. This will be the last night in Redcliffe so I have a bit of coin - how does a night in the local tavern sound? A few drinks, get to know each other and then we're going to start off to Orzammar."

"I knew I liked you!" Una cheered. "Even if you do skulk on those high places!"

* * *

And so, six humans, three elves, a dwarf, a qunari and two mabari hounds went to a tavern. Morrigan swiftly transformed into a raven and flew into the thatched roof when a drunk tried to accost her, the two dogs marched in proud of the rest of them like little lords and Rose took the place after with Llars, Lindra, Una and Xavier close behind, Alistair, Zevran, Jowan, Wynne and Sten behind them.

"It's a shame Morrigan ain't drinking with us. You and her like each other don't ya boss?" Una smiled.

"You _like_ the witch?" Alistair said accusingly to Rose.

"She seems plainly spoken, intelligent and listens intently to the plans. She hasn't thrown a dagger into the mess of my plans so far." Their leader answered, sitting down in the empty booth big enough for them all. She got her tin out her pocket and promptly started to roll out a cigarette.

A waitress of sorts with vivid ginger hair and a wide, if tired, smile came to the table once they were all seated and Una was drawn to the pattern on Sten's shoulder pauldrons. Where had she seen that before? It couldn't be dwarven by a long shot so where in the Ancestors stinking graves had she seen it? "What can I get you lot then?" The waitress asked, putting an ashtray down next to Rose with a box of matches.

Wine for all the sparklefingers, ale, cider and mead for everyone else. It was an easy order. Except for Sten who ordered funnily enough a mug of chamomile and ambrosia tea. There was some sort of scuffling noise and Una turned round to see an elf in chainmail armour trying to get out of the tavern past a crowd of slow moving drunks.

"Felas falon. Why the rush?" Llars quickly stood up and with remarkable grace had the other elf pinned back against the wall. "You'll soon get crushed underfoot by these shemlen. Hamin."

"Don't hurt me!" The other elf suddenly screeched. Llars backed off slightly still holding him at arms length.

"I cannot see how one of the elvhen would harm another without due cause." The Dalish elf narrowed his eyes.

"I know him!" Their black haired sparklefingers got up hindered by the table but still hovering from his seat. "You were with the man who said he was Teyrn Loghain! Berrick? Berry?"

Rose suddenly got up, her cigarette in the corner of her mouth and her lips pinched into a tight line. Ancestors she looked tired. She took a long drag off her cigarette before pulling it sharply between finger and thumb and slowly breathing out the smoke. "I want your name and I want the name of your employer. Now before I conscript you into the Grey Wardens."

"Please! No!" The elf fidgeted but Llars had him tight on the shoulder. "I'll tel you everything but please. I don't want to fight all my life! My name's Berwick."

"That's a good start." Rose smiled and took another drag from her cigarette. "Do go on."

"I was just given this note." This Berwick rifled in his pockets and shakily passed a ripped piece of heavy vellum to Rose.

"Expensive paper. From your employer?" Rose blew out a small cloud of smoke when her face fell. "Watch the castle for any changes! Signed none other than R. Howe! That fucking bastard! I'll make him dance on the gallows. I knew he was the one behind this. All the signs pointed to it!"

Things got a little ugly after that. The elf was told to run before Rose decided that an employee that knew their employer was this Howe bastard was someone she wanted to kill before she put the piece of vellum in the middle of the table and furiously smoked with a shaking hand. "Not Loghain. Fucking well knew it!" She seethed. "Mercy Vine only comes from Amaranthine."

"It could suggest Loghain and Howe being in cahoots." Alistair snorted a short breath out his nose. "I always though bad guys travelled in pairs."

"You may be the next King but I assure you the general of your armies is not the sort of man to hire an apostate blood mage to poison someone like Eamon." Rose stubbed her cigarette under her thumb in the ashtray. "Bastard. Kills my family then tries to kill the Guerrins. Couldn't just come here and slaughter though. Tried to do it sneakily. Bastard."

"You were quick to assume he didn't leave the King and Grey Wardens to die because he wanted to!" Alistair snapped back.

Rose stared at him, the bags under her eyes looking darker than before. "The loss of the King was great. Civil war was bound to erupt with that even if my own family hadn't been slaughtered like animals. The loss of the Grey Wardens was not so great, we still live and will cobble together to end the Blight. It was not the Teyrn but the darkspawn that killed Cailan and I can tell you he was a fool. During the war council at Ostagar Duncan pandered to him relentlessly, allowing him the place in the main body of the army even when Loghain himself told him that he would be safer elsewhere. If that is the man you believe to have killed the King then believe it. My views are my own."

"What would you know!" Alistair muttered. Una winced, waiting for a dagger or other pointed object to whizz through the air.

"I know death. I know battle strategy and also a damn site more than you believe you do. I have to lead this group of Grey Wardens despite being junior to you! Did it occur to you it's been less than a month since I had my nephew's blood on my hand, to check if he had watched his mother raped while dead while he was trussed like a wild boar?" She ground her teeth. "Since I held my father's hand as he slipped away to a poisoned dagger despite my trying to counteract that poison. To see _Thomas Howe _a boy I was once betrothed to slit my mother's throat before I killed him myself? And yet I stand here and do my duty because I happen to be capable. You however, knowing Grey Warden fucking secrets and all, dissolved into a blubbering wreck at the death of your commander! Who was Duncan to you?" That was one bit of impressive swearing.

Stalemate. Una had seen chess played enough to know what that meant. The two humans looked at each other - one false move and one would crack. "The closest thing to a father I ever had." Alistair eventually whispered. "Arl Eamon might have raised me but do you want to know where I grew up? In a stable. I slept on straw until it was too inconvenient to have a bastard hanging around and I got shipped off to the nearest chantry. I was always told I was nothing important and I shouldn't be so shocked to know I'm only useful as this heir to a throne to you."

"I slept on the floorboards with a ratty moth-eaten blanket most my life." Lindra put in. "My cousins parents were killed my shems so we all lived in one room, my parents, my two cousins and me. Then mother was killed and I had to take to smuggling to put even stale bread on the table."

"Buy that woman a pint!" Una cheered. At least the conversation was drawn away from the argument. "I lived pretty much the same. Us Broscas had a house of our own. Orzammar ain't all exposed to the elements like this surfacer world though. To pay for the house though, I killed and poisoned, my sister whored herself out. Weren't nice that - knowing that she had to spread her legs to give us food and shelter. Dust Town's the lowest of the low. Name's pretty much self explanatory though."

"The tower... is horrid. The apprentices are watched like hawks in case we'll turn into abominations. We're not allowed to take books out of the library, curfews on being awake. We're watched bathing, shaving and even going to the privy. There isn't a moment you're alone long enough to do much." The black-haired sparklefingers sighed.

"Don't forget that some of the less fortunate... go to the healers more often. Normally myself." The rust-headed sparklefingers added. "The templars will rape and abuse any they think I quote a sweet dear 'deserve it'. She would often come for healing until she voluntarily submitted to becoming Tranquil. I swore anyone who hurt another girl would make themselves an enemy."

"Misery pints all round." Rose smiled sadly and reached for the corked bottle of wine, yanking the cork out with her teeth and pouring a glass for everyone who had wine glasses. "Privileged life of a noble cut short by a snake in the grass. Shame - some of us are better off being Grey Wardens and others wish they could reverse time and be the pumpkin faerie again."

Silence shrouded them as they started drinking, the cider, ale and mead passed about the non-wine drinkers. "Pumpkin faerie?" Zevran ventured. "Tell me that is dirty. I could do with some levity after such morose feelings being poured about."

"I used to chase my nephew about the room. I'd tackle him the the floor claiming he had a miniature pumpkin growing on his cheek and the only way to remove it would be a kiss. I'd do despicable acts to have Oren back, to chase him about the room again." Rose closed her eyes and downed her entire glass of wine.

"Lindra told me you're a quote 'blue-blood' unquote." The elderly sparklefingers sipped her wine and cleared her throat.

"I never formally introduced myself. Rose Cousland, but as long as it's not disrespectful any name would suit me fine." She pulled her tobacco tin out again and went to roll another cigarette.

"As in... the Highever Couslands?" Wynne pursed her lips. "How close a relation to the Teyrn?"

"The late Teyrn was my father." Rose sniffed.

* * *

Lindra was feeling pretty buzzy. She'd most probably drunk two pints of very superior mead. Incredibly good stuff, sweet and mellow with enough alcohol to drown a cat. They'd ordered some of the mutton pies which the dogs had begged scraps of for a long time. It had been... a fun evening. She was liking the blueblood more and just wanted to envelop everyone in the group in a hug.

Everyone. From Llars having to leave his clan to Una living in worse squalor to what she did to Xavier having to heal rape victims. Life was a horrible thing.

"How different is it living with the Dalish?" Lindra asked Llars. "I would have taken my whole family to find you if everyone wasn't so sure the Dalish were mythical."

"Life was hard, being nomadic and living in aravels is a dangerous life." Llars sighed. "Hahren Paivel would tell stories of the Elvhen Parthenon of Gods. Of Halamshiral and the Dales passed down through the generations. He told me a beautiful poem before I left my clan. Would you like to hear it?" He looked blearily over at her and then a slightly lust filled glance to Zevran that made Lindra want to shove them both into a cupboard and listen in at the door.

"Oh do tell!" The red-haired chantry sister nearly squealed, hiccuping from the wine she'd drunk. "Poem! Poem!"

"Oh shush." Llars pursed his lips and then stretched his neck out.

"Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky,

Hast'ning to place one last kiss upon your eye.

Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber,

Softening the rolling thunder.

Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense.

During this, your last hour, only silence."

"I know dirty poems. Perhaps your poems and my own could come to an understanding." Zevran waggled his eyebrows and the Dalish elf blushed nearly as dark as the burgundy tattoos that covered like vines half his face all the way up to the mousy brown roots of his hair.

Then Lindra could have squealed in delight for the way Llars almost sprang over her to Zevran and landed heavily on him, lips crashing down on his.

* * *

Llars opened his mouth slightly to slip his tongue in the Antivan's mouth, tasting the brandy and wine on his lips and mouth, threading his fingers into his blond hair. Creators give him strength the other man smelt of leather and spiced oils.

He made no notice of the giggling and clapping of the people around him as he straddled the other elf and deepened the kiss further, digging his nails slightly into Zevran's scalp as those tan hands smoothed down his back. A fine shiver settled low in his gut, warm and so very... lifting.

A pulse of blood told him and a similar feeling of hardness pressing into his stomach told him that Zevran too was feeling of the same mind.

"Get a room!" The lethallan chuckled. "But let me watch!"

"Hmmm... only watch?" Zevran purred, their lips briefly parting with a wet pucker. Llars growled slightly. He could very easily make sure the other elf made was his alone. And with that he clasped Zevran's hand and they were running out of the tavern into the cool night air and to the castle where he had his own private room.

* * *

Xavier was too shocked to speak, simply sipping the nice red wine. "I hope they have a good time." He managed. He noticed Lindra was still with her mouth slightly parted and breathing heavily. "My dear are you quite alright? Did you get a knee in the lap?"

"I am more than alright shem." She breathed. "I want to hear that dirty poetry meeting though."

"I know a dirty limerick!" Jowan cleared his throat.

"There once was a man very meek,

Who invented a lingual technique,

It drove women frantic,

And made them romantic,

And wore all the hair off his cheek!" Then the blood mage blushed deeply and covered his smirk with his stein of cider. Xavier was shocked.

"I know a limerick about limericks." Lindra chuckled. "Here we go..."

"The limerick form is complex,

It's contents run chiefly to sex,

It burgeons with virgins,

And masculine urgin's,

And swarms with erotic effects." Then she giggled more.

"I think a lot of us have been drinking too much." Xavier sighed. "Where is our ravishing leader?"

He needn't have asked. She was slumped down on the table, sleeping with half a glass of wine in her grasp and her breath whistling faintly out her nose. He knew she'd didn't sleep well but this wasn't too healthy.

"Templar. I know you two would rather claw your own eyes out rather than help the other but I need some help with carrying our dear leader back to her room to sleep." Xaver inched out of his seat and carefully pried Rose's glass out of her grasp, slipping her little tobacco tin into her pocket.

Alistair looked briefly up at him and sighed. "I suppose I should." He finished off his ale.

"You two needn't do so. I have grown weary of these activities. I will be able to carry the Warden leader to no problem." Sten pushed off his stool and stood, his towering seven feet easily reaching to the ceiling of the tavern. Xavier shrank back into his seat and watched carefully as the kossith picked Rose up and she slumped over his shoulder with a flop, muttering about vassalage and qunlocks of all things. Grey Wardens dreams mixed with some political mumblings... it was funny.

* * *

*.

Llars fell back onto the silken coverlets of the bed with a sigh, blissfully naked and watching with hooded grey eyes the way the Antivan elf was stripping his leather clothes off almost too slowly.

"Emma lath you should hurry." He growled, gently clasping his erection in hand and pulling the foreskin backward and forward slowly, hissing between his teeth as Zevran muttered away in his native tongue. "And if you have brought some poison to end me wait until we have done."

The assassin stilled, in just his leather leggings, the rest of his gloriously naked in the flickering of the hearth. Llars could have basked in the warm firelight and stood carefully up. "You thought I would betray your trust?" Zevran pursed his lips. "I swore not to kill yourself or any other Grey Warden."

"What if I deserve to die?" Llars placed his hands on those warm tan hips, slipping his thumbs into the leather leggings and bringing the assassin into a smouldering kiss, full of passion and that fire. Creators, he wanted the other man. Now.

"We all do." Zevran hissed, moving his lips up his long pointed ear, biting softly on the tip and sending a shiver down his spinal column. He pushed the Dalish elf onto the bed and flipped him onto his knees. Llars whimpered as he felt that warm hand soothe up his back in small circular motions, working at the knots in his muscles.

Llars arched his back and growled again as Zevran's warm fingers probed into the cleft of his arse, one finger in particular slipping into his back entrance and bending into that sweet spot that made him buck. "Len'alas lath'din, fuck me!" Llars felt the bulge behind him brushing it's leather length into his thigh and growled and that finger probed deeper. His eyes closed and he felt that heat coiling deep in him and tingling in his groin in an almost painful twitch of his cock.

"Do you want to die now mi bellísimo?" Zevran purred, his hot chest pressing into his back and that spicy citrus scent assaulted his nostrils, that warm breath ghosting into the shell of his pointed ear. "The little death for you?"

"Zevran." Llars hissed the name out through his teeth into the silk sheeting. He hadn't felt such an urge for anyone else since Tamlen. Yes... this man would use him just as he deserved for having left his clansmate to die. "Kill me."

"I should kiss you." The voice growled and that finger slipped from that sweet, maddening, pulsing point and he found himself flipped, his mouth being devoured by the other man's, his hair being pulled out of it's normal contraints. Llars fumbled with Zevran's leather leggings, unlacing them and pulling them down as the other elf was kissing and nibbling down his chest, taking great attentions to the flat discs of his nipples. "But you'd think I should slip you poison that way no?"

Llars responded with a groan as Zevran took hold of his cock and enveloped it with his mouth. Creators guide him... that talented tongue swirled on his head and his bottom teeth just catching on the underside of the shaft.

Zevran released him with a pop. "Very sensitive my Warden."

Llars couldn't even speak properly, half elvish words slipping out his mouth. "Halam sahlin vhenan'ara!" He leapt forward with every ounce of grace left in him and grabbed the other elf by the hips twisting round to be behind him. He yanked down the leather leggings to Zevran's knees and took in a deep breath.

Llars wetted his forefinger with a bit of spit as lubricated Zevran's back passage quickly before sliding his cock in with a hiss. So... tight. He allowed the other man a moment to accommodate him before he started rocking his hips backwards and forwards, groaning with that ring of muscles tightening and releasing him.

It was if his spine filled with liquid fire and he sped up, sweat running in rivulets down his back and vallaslin covered face. He'd been too pent up. Zevran moaned and it was his undoing, Llars came quickly, hissing and shaking as he continued to pump his hips until he flopped forward onto Zevran's back, hot skin against more hot skin, his softening cock slipping out.

The two elves spooned together, missing the patch where Zevran had released himself over the bed, both panting like having run miles. Llars swept a hand through his sweated mouse brown hair. "I knew this would happen eventually." Llars sighed as the warm breath ghosted on his ear. "I should have warned you when you decided not to kill me."

*smut over but there is some post-coital talk until the next scene breaker*

"And here I thought I had seduced you ma lath." Llars smiled to himself. This arrangement... hadn't been bad at all. Even the weight of loosing so much felt lighter in a way with a warm body pressed against him.

"Your seductive charms are hardly subtle. I believe even Lindra caught on before you did no?" He nuzzled into Llars' neck and the Dalish elf took a deep breath in. "So as the priestess once so famously said to the actor. What now?"

"I could have asked you the same question if I had known about the priestess or the actor." Llars chuckled. Since when was the last time he'd actually felt even happy?

"Then allow me to put it simply my Grey Warden. I was always taught to find my pleasures where I could, if such pleasures continued all the better, if not then what time we have had was no loss. It is entirely up to you if you wish to continue this..." Zevran nipped at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. "Line of action."

"Now or later? I may require some assassination at a later date and would trust no other to do it so... pleasurably." Llars grinned, satisfied that he knew where he stood now. Laying may have been a more accurate term however.

"I must say, we have come a long way from the days of when I tried to kill you and you decided not to kill me. Fate is such a tricky whore no?" Llars felt the vibrations of his laugh in his throat and nuzzled his head backward.

"It happened to be a few days ago actually. You must be pleased that I'm obviously so easy to have seduced with promises of dirty poetry and that smirking face."

"Alas, it was that blush upon your cheeks that enticed me so." Zevran pulled him closer into his naked chest. "Come, we should rest. A new day should await us or so the rumour goes. Plenty of darkspawn to be killed and there would be a very angry leader if we are not awake in time."

"True." Llars did in fact feel very tired now. It could have been the sweet mead, the spiced cider. It was likely the warm body he was pressed against though and the odd feeling of being safe. "Who would have thought it?"

"Shh..."

"I want to ask you a question." Llars sat up, still draped with those tan arms and looked down at the tired but happy face of the assassin.

"Oh go ahead. Just don't expect my life story." He smirked flippantly.

"Have you always..."

"Been intrigued by tight leather clothing?" Zevran finished his sentence and Llars smiled, shaking his head.

"Been attracted to other men." He put it bluntly. He needed to know if Zevran was just using him. If he had been what they would call an easy lay so the assassin could quicker get in the good books of the Grey Wardens.

Zevran sighed and pulled him down so they leant on each other, forehead to forehead. "I grew up in an Antivan brothel, men and women alike being to whores. My introduction to sex was nothing but practical." Llars heart sank. His fears confirmed. Zevran seemed to notice. "I am attracted to men just as much as women. My only rule ever having been that sex is done well. A little open-mindedness in an assassin is a good thing, the Crows would hire their assassins elven as we are seen as beautiful by many. I have done many pleasant and not so pleasant things in my line of work."

"So..." Llars furrowed his brow, trying to understand.

"You are an intriguing man my fair Dalish deliciousness. A beast in the bedroom. If what I represent, a killer and seducer of men and women alike makes you uncomfortable..."

"It does not. The Dalish do not see same-sex partnerships as undesirable as long as both members are aware of the strain it places on the clan when it comes to the next generation and producing that generation. I have had both male and female lovers myself." He sighed. "Although I would have preferred to have ignored such duty."

"Have you children from such encounters? Seeing as you are so sworn to such duty." There was a bit of venom in his tone and Llars reeled back.

"I have borne no da'len for the clan. Zevran..."

"Hush. This line of questioning is doing neither of us any good. We shall talk in the morning light when we have rested. As an old tutor of mine once said, 'keep your eyes on the ambush or in the bedchamber' I have no idea but it sounds sage no?"

Llars silenced him with a kiss. You couldn't fake the way their pulses reacted and they slipped lazily kissing into sleep, holding onto one another.

* * *

Una was shocked that their group had dwindled so much. Rose had been carried off sleeping by the qunari, Llars and Zevran had run off looking like they were lusting over each other... The dogs had followed Sten obediently. It left her listening to the terrible limericks of Lindra and the black-haired sparklefingers. Here favourite so far had been about some prat who fell off a stool and buggered himself with one of the legs. Or the sparklefingers with huge tits.

"I should hit the old hay. Gotta be up bright and fucking early if we're heading back to Orzammar. Ancestors arse it'll be nice to have the stone above my head." Una stretched out as she stood, grabbing the painted clay stein and knocking the rest of the brown ale within back.

"Are you apprehensive about heading back to Orzammar? After all you went through?" The chantry sister caught her hand as she was leaving and Una's breath stilled at the contact. People didn't usually touch her... it was always the other way round.

"Why should I be? Got the finest warriors and defenders if anyone wants to spit on me." She shrugged.

"You are not the woman of stone you wish to be. There is someone inside who is soft and gentle." Una scowled at the words.

"Ain't true and you best not go round saying it human." And with that she nicked the stein (it was a gorgeous stein - very pretty painting of a castle and those horses glazed on it) and walked back to the castle. The stars were out... it was a breathtaking thing even when tipsy.

To think... here she was under they sky. She hadn't fallen up into that vast blue yet, she was just a dwarf. Not a duster, not a brand or two-bit criminal. Just a dwarf with a huge fucking sword. A Grey Warden.

Ancestors really had a sense of humour.


	15. Hungover

**Disclaimer: Bioware/EA owns all, only any OCs and original plot arcs belong to me but it is their playground and therefore their toys I have fun with.**

Rated: T - language. That's it.

Note: A one-shot for any who get where the jester's names come from. No googling.

* * *

_Rose pushed through the throngs of dancers, trying to find her brother. Why did it have to be so stiflingly hot? It was the ball after the spring Landsmeet of Dragon 9:29 and the first she'd been attendance of, the heat was people not weather. Her parents had decided to send the two siblings in their stead, the plan was for them to rule jointly over Highever until Rose could find a husband. Judging by how she was going - she was not going to find a husband very soon._

_She'd been betrothed to that drunkard of a boy over by the punchbowl, three years her junior until the marriage contract had been revoked. She was not marrying Thomas Howe. No way - and no how. She chuckled at the terrible pun and pushed past another dancing pair. Oh - one of Whulff's sons got paired up with Habren. Delilah was getting spoken to by Leonas about something and she looked bored to tears._

_"Dammit Fergus - just leave me in the middle of this Blighted thing!" Rose tried looking for the man in the matching colour to herself, a turquoise was supposed to make it easier to be seen. Dammit everyone was in some gaudy colour, pinks, purples, oranges and greens mixed in with a great sea of yellows and reds._

_"Need some help?" Rose spun with a flurry of her skirts and breathed out as much as possible in this stupid tight corset. It was the pair of court jesters, Folly and Motley. Twin elves with ridiculously ornate costumes. Folly in striped puke green and royal purple, complete with golden coloured bells attached to pretty much every place possible including the floppy hat all jesters seemed to have as mandatory wear. Motley in striped orange and vivid blue, silver bells adorned to his costume._

_"You haven't seen my brother at all have you?" She asked. Folly emphatically shook his head, the jingle of the golden bells of his hat rather mirthful._

_"Not at all. It would be the Lord Fergus that is who you seek no?" Rose rolled her eyes at Motley's patter. He was in character. _

_Folly looked as if hiding a secret and his eyes shifted from side to side. "Methinks he might have been dancing a short while ago for he was mysteriously taken to a hopping malady."_

_"The Remigold? He promised that to..." Rose furrowed her brow. If she could remember which girl had nabbed her brother for the dance she'd be a little closer to hunting him down. "Thank you Folly and Motley." She retrieved a silver coin from her purse and passed it to the purple and green elf._

_Being a jester was a well paid profession. "Shivering Andraste!" The elf jumped and waved his golden bell covered baton. _

_Motley when chasing after him, his own silver belled baton waved too. "Lords and ladies! A tale of a dragon ne'erdowell, a fair maiden and a dashing knight!"_

_The jesters leapt about in the throngs of people, clearing the space. "Yes! A tale!" The King laughed over the crowds, clapping and cheering._

_Rose scanned the quietening crowds and rushed when she saw the familial mop of chestnut coloured hair in a turquoise doublet. "Fergus!" She hissed as she found him. "You left me all alone and I got felt up by that pig Vaughan Kendalls." She glanced over to the man supposedly drunkenly snoring over at the feasting tables, a patch of darker fabric around his crotch where his bladder had given out on him. Such a shame he was wearing pale blue. It was always an idea to keep some powdered prickleweed thorns to hand for such pay-back._

_"Shh Rosie. The jesters are starting." Rose crossed her arms and felt some sort of buzzing in her veins. Like a liquid fire mixed with a hive of bees._

_Suddenly the doors of the landsmeet chamber were thrown open and horrid blood coloured figures swarmed in, crude swords and shields raised high. Their rotting flesh filled her nostrils over the scent of wine and sweat from dancing._

_Darkspawn._

_Blood was pouring over the floor, people turning to sludge at their swords. Rose grabbed her bow and arrows. Since when did they allow weaponry in a ball? Everyone was armed with something of course. Most people had a dagger slipped into a boot it was expected._

_How did she know what darkspawn looked like for that matter? Had she seen a picture in a book? Why could she smell them?_

_There was a crashing of bells as the two jesters were bashing in darkspawn heads with their batons._

* * *

Rose choked as she sat up in the bed, sweat covering her skin. Maker's teeth her head was pounding! She was so sure it was about a year ago... her family.

No. She'd shed enough tears over this. She'd avenge those innocent that had died and that would bring her a modicum of relief.

The room was dark but for the light streaming uninvited through the open curtains. She blinked at the glass of water on the bedside table and two tablets next to it - a note on vellum beside it. Argh.

She picked up the tablets and the note, squinting with the blurry vision.

_Hello dear ravishing leader!_

_Two tablets of elfroot and ambrosia to wake up to and clear the worst of your headache!_

_Take upon waking and report to the main hall for smoked kippers with bread and butter with porridge. I made arrangements last night so you would get a good start to the morning._

_Healers orders! Wynne has a stern face over a drunken acting Warden Commander so hop to it dear._

_Xavier Amell_

Rose groaned and swallowed the tablets back, sipping the water slowly. This wasn't the tastiest of wake-up moments. An infernal scrabbling of claws woke her and she padded off the bed and opened the privy door to have a giant ball of fur pin her neatly to the floor and start slobbering on her face. "Blighted dog! Get off me Aegis!"

Even shouting was hurting her head. She took in the fact she was still wearing her armour - and had slept in it before she wandered to the dresser, splashing her face with the cold water in the basin, lathering her hands with the flowery and distinctly Orlesian bar of soap before scrubbing away the dirt from her face and arms before washing it off and towelling her face and hands dry.

All the while with a stinking headache and a mabari that still thought it was a puppy trying to weave through her legs. There was a pecking on the windowpane and she walked with one boot half laced and the other abandoned on the floor to the window.

Rose opened the window and the raven hopped in before transforming before her eyes into a tall woman, curvy and dressed as a chasind prostitute.

Morrigan adjusted her necklaces and paced about. "Tis nothing finer than a good flight about the ramparts to wake oneself up in the morning!" She glanced sideways at Rose who was hopping about trying to lace her boot before putting her oilskins over the top. "I understand the qunari had to carry your sleeping drunk self back to the castle."

"That would explain why I awoke fully dressed." Rose sighed. At least none of the actual Wardens had needed to carry her drunk. Still... headache. "Are you familiar with any healing spells? My head feels like an Ogre smashed into it."

"I daresay you deserve it for such needless consumption of alcohol." Morrigan sniffed. "But no. See the hypocritical elderly schoolmarm for such skills. She might even threaten to talk your ear off and warm your behind with a spoon for your foolishness."

"Your opinion on drinking has been noted. I shan't offer you my water-skein in future with the brandy mixed into it." Rose sighed, slumping onto the bed to tie her laces and put her oilskins on. "Would you know the time?"

"Some minutes past eight according to your Chantry bell tower." The witch shrugged.

"Was there something you needed?" Rose finished up her oilskins after the few moments of silence since they'd been speaking.

"I have come to understand that the Dalish elf is in possession of some books gifted him by the slaves at the tower. One of which belongs to my mother. I wish to have possession of it myself." Rose's eyebrows furrowed. The witch definitely spoke plainly.

"And you didn't steal it off him?" She asked, standing and stretching out.

"He would ask for it back. I need it."

"I'll ask him over breakfast." Rose straightened out and grabbed her helmet off the dresser. "If you would care to join me for the breaking of our nightly fast?"

"I have eaten but t'would be interesting to see what banter and gossip is being drifted over last night's activities."

Rose declined to know what Morrigan had eaten whilst in her raven form. She strained to think what had happened last night. The last thing she remembered was some awful poetry... she thought. It all got a bit blurry after she quaffed most of the wine down from that bottle of Antivan Rioja.

* * *

All Lindra could remember was some maker-awful limericks and that her head was killing her. She scoffed the fish, bread and salted, buttery porridge as if she'd never eaten, drinking the milk laced with poison-counter between each monstrous mouthful just in case.

It might be an idea to get them all with some poison resistance. Naturally rather than having to drink this disgusting poison-counter... which would be better suited in case they needed to fight off more assassins.

Llars and Zevran strolled in looking very happy with themselves, the Dalish elf casually sitting down and picking up some of the toasted bread and slathering on a knob of butter. Hmmm... so Zevran was the sheath and Llars was the sword. Lindra was already blushing when Zevran flipped a chair backwards and straddled it easily, leaning over and nabbing a bowl of dried fruit and nuts, picking up an empty bowl to ladle some porridge in and sprinkling the fruit and nut into his porridge before returning them both to their respective places. Oh... maybe they took turns?

She'd never seen Llars look so happy actually. "Ma lath could you pass the salt and pepper?" Llars asked and Zevran picked up the two sellers, withholding them before Llars kissed him with a quick peck on the lips and grabbed them off him.

"Fun night?" Xavier choked as he swallowed a mouthful of milk and poison-counter. It was disgusting stuff true.

"Oodles." Zevran grinned before spooning some porridge into his mouth.

"Boss and witchy sparklefingers!" Lindra silently cursed the dwarf for her resilience to alcohol as she greeted the blue-blood and swamp witch into the room. Her ears didn't need so soundly testing this early in the damned morning.

"Head. Hurts." The blue-blood groaned, quietly sitting down and busying herself with mixing milk and counter before grabbing enough food for three people. Their Warden appetites were getting worse. "I can't remember anything other than some terrible poems. What happened last night?"

"Argh! My head!" Lindra turned in her seat with a mouth still full of fish when she saw the black-haired mage stumble in, shaved and cleaner than he'd looked before but in rumpled robes. Maker's breath that was a sight for the Ages.

_Bad Lindra! Thinking of a shem like that. A dirty limerick contests and drinking the mage under the table were all well and good but control yourself! _

* * *

Xavier felt like a mother hen. Running about administering healing to little dehydrated brains of people who'd drunk just a little bit too much. They were an alright sort, the Grey Wardens and everyone else they'd picked up and he quite like getting called sparklefingers by Una. He liked most of the people they travelled with if the truth be told, the notable exceptions to that rule being Zevran because he'd tried to kill them and he wasn't overly fond of Morrigan because she was a one to snap easily at them. Quite rude. Daniel had a little crush on her before... he died.

No. He wasn't going to think about that. People die everyday. He'd had apprentices of his fail the Harrowing of be made Tranquil. It shouldn't hurt so much but it did. Daniel had been one of his favourites. He'd been so proud when Irving had taken a shine to the lad for his Spiritualism skills.

"Copper for your thoughts dear leader?" He smirked, helping everyone load their belongings into the cart they were hitching up to Pale and Derek. They didn't have much. Mainly clothes, food, soap, weapons and a few person bits and pieces. Arl Eamon had been kind enough to donate some more blankets and some supplies like solid wax blocks for starting a fire without magic in case of roving bands of templars. Good though that idea. How to explain that one is a free mage of the Grey Warden variety when one travels with a recruit that happens to be a blood mage, a well known Senior Enchanter who is more out of the tower than in and an apostate with shapeshifting talents.

"Formulating a plan of action and my words for speaking to a dwarven King." She answered finally, shoving the last bedroll and the tent poles into the cart. "Copper for the old fashioned mage's thoughts?"

"Trying to get the picture of Sten carrying your drunken behind back to the castle out of my mind. You drank very quickly you know."

"Assaulted by memories of a horrible night." Rose sighed. "I'll drink more carefully in future."

* * *

Roland looked over the group of people who had devoted themselves to their cause. Most of them were farmers and merchants who had been dependant of the late Teyrn. Not skilled in any way with a sword or with a bow and arrow but they would learn.

He watched as Fergus was putting them through drills. Once he'd set his mind on it the rightful Teyrn of Highever was a general - make no mistake of it. Many of the men and women slumped after the push-ups and running.

They'd have to get some armour and weaponry. Recruit a blacksmith into their favour or find a place with a blacksmith that would work cheaply as they scrounged the coin for it. All their 'forces' had brought their own essentials for life in a troop like bedding, soap and some provisional food. One merchant had even brought a cart which they hitched to Petunia.

"Ulfric! Quit showing off and give me twenty more!" Fergus bellowed at the farmer who had easily done the twenty push-ups and was dancing circles around some of the ones struggling.

Yes. Fergus had thrown himself into fighting the civil war. If only to avenge his family.

Roland wished things had been easier. "Fergus," he approached the other man carefully. "might we travel to the Hunters Fell bannorn and speak to my father? I would hazard a guess that he still keeps up the small regimen of soldiers."

"How many Ser Gilmore?" The brown haired man questioned.

"No more than fifteen. But all would be skilled enough to teach and there might be spare weaponry and armour for us to gather too."

"After today's drills and the practice with the swords we have, we'll make our move then." He answered.

"We might also get word of any survivors of Ostagar. Hopefully..."

"I can't lend myself to hope Rory. Not now." Fergus straightened out his back and barked for them to get up for the sword training.

It would be a good month before they would be ready for any skirmish let alone civil war. It was just a little hope that they would be just as ill prepared as any other players in this war.

* * *

Rose found herself trying to find a qunari. One might have thought it would be an easy task, find the seven foot wall of muscle with the silvery bronze skin and the stark white hair and beard.

You'd be wrong of course.

Eventually she found him in the gallery of family portraits, gazing reflectively at a painting of the late Queen Rowan. "She was a warrior. Fought alongside King Maric and Teyrn Loghain in the Rebellion against the Orlesian Occupation. Ferelden is not a place where we grow accustomed to being slaves."

"The brush strokes have been done well if this is an accurate depiction of the woman." Sten replied. Rose looked at the painting properly.

"Most artists find that a bit of playing to popular opinion on someone's face does the world of good. Especially with royalty. I daresay from memory she looks quite accurate." Rose smiled, the edge of her mouth arching upwards. "It is comforting to know where our history lies, with warrior Queens and other such heroes that shaped our world."

"And they are placed upon the wall in fine pieces of artwork." Sten agreed.

"When we have time, after the Blight and if you live - I'll show you some of the galleries in Denerim. Perhaps buy you a sampler to show other qunari when you chose to return to your homeland." The qunari looked down at her.

"Perhaps if you live too, I would find that agreeable." He didn't smile but he looked contented before he frowned and looked back at the painting. "I am not returning to my homeland. I have no honour that the Qun would see."

"My apologies." Rose bit her lip. How to speak to a qunari? They really should have done a lesson with Aldous over this. "Would not fighting the Blight alongside the Grey Wardens restore this lost honour of yours?"

The qunari grumbled. "I have lost my soul. My Asala. Bas would not understand."

"Try me." Rose quickly regretted that choice of words for the almost murderous look in his violet eyes.

"A qunari is nothing without his sword. It was crafted for his hand only. Without my sword I am nothing but Tal'Vasoth - a deserter of the Qun. My people would sooner kill me than accept me as I am." Sten kept his voice even but the thought of being this 'Tal'Vasoth' was something he did not want to be.

"I see. Then one would try to retrieve one's sword." She mused aloud. "Where did you lose it?"

"I was near a place of great water like this Redcliffe. Closer to the home of the Saarebas." He answered. That was damned cryptic.

"We need to go to Kinloch Hold and sort out our troops, make sure they sent word to Jainen. We could search for it there. The plan is to travel up to Kinloch Hold, take boat across Lake Calenhad and then onto Orzammar."

"I will take your word at face value. A lie. A comforting lie but nevertheless a lie. My Asala is forever lost."

And that was the end of the conversation.

* * *

They travelled quite easily for a Blight ridden country - they met with a small band of darkspawn and slew them easily enough.

Kinloch Hold was still the wreck it had been. Lindra sat down on the docks, splashing her feet in the waters. The blue-blood, the witch and the qunari were talking to a filthy looking man who had been crawling about the shoreline with a weathered pack on his back. To what end she had no idea but to each their own.

Llars had taken it upon himself that not getting the templar forces had been his fault. Their shem Warden mage was wit him too about getting lyrium and other magical items. So they was in the tower having a 'discussion' with the Knight-Commander. She hoped it was the sort of discussion with broken fingers. "I never want to go back there."

Lindra twisted, still with her feet in the water to the mage speaking. Jowan. "I don't either. Horrid place full of nasty little buggers that tried to kill us." She shivered for effect. "I did find out I'm pretty much resistant to magic though. That was a nice surprise."

"Nasty little buggers?" He smiled faintly. Lindra patted the planks next to her for him to sit.

"Oh yes. Rage Demons and that sort of ilk. Daniel said they were the weak ones. Incredibly weak if you ask me." She shrugged. "So when are we making you a Grey Warden?"

"When Xavier can get some lyrium." Jowan sighed. "I've been told in no uncertain terms that Enchanter Amell can do this Joining Ritual now you have darkspawn blood. He needs some powdered lyrium."

"Huh. We didn't get told anything before we got made Grey Wardens." She sighed. "You can swim right?"

"Provisionally. I did swim the lake, in robes, in the middle of the night when I escaped." Jowan answered hesitantly.

"Strip off then. I'm going swimming!"

* * *

The night in camp was tense. Xavier had to mix the drop of Archdemon blood out of his own 'Oath' than Warden Caron had given him, a scoop of lyrium and some of the darkspawn blood they'd gathered earlier in the day.

The non-Wardens of the group had been asked to go into their tents while the Wardens were doing the Joining Ritual. It was a good idea that Duncan had asked Karen Caron to teach him and Daniel the binding spell for the ingredients or they'd be up a creek without a paddle.

Una had generously donated the stein she'd pilfered from Redcliffe tavern under the terms that if the ale tastes darkspawn-y, he'll be held be accountable. He turned the small scoop of lyrium powder into the stein and swirled it into the darkspawn blood.

The mixture fizzed up briefly. Going as it had in Ostagar. Xavier cracked the bead of blood held in glass into the mixture and the mixture stopped fizzing. He muttered the binding spell. Daniel have been a natural with Tevine, his own teachings. He'd have to teach this to Jowan if he survived this. The spell calmed the liquid completely and it turned a vivid red rather than the black of darkspawn blood.

"I can't remember the exact words. But... he's to becoming a Grey Warden. Drink as much as you can." He held the stein out at Rose's words and Jowan took it, holding the lid back with the thumb of the hand holding the handle.

Lindra coughed. "Hope you survive shem. I'll miss the limericks." Jowan glanced at her and smiled briefly before he started to chug the liquid down.

Xavier rushed forward when Jowan crumpled to his knees. Una grabbed her stein and Rose grabbed Jowan round the middle, holding him up. He conjured up a healing aura and kept watching his heartbeat. It was speeding up.

Suddenly it spiked and Jowan's eyes opened milky white. The blood mage slumped into Rose's arms backwards. "Is he... alive?"

"His heart is still beating my dear." Xavier nodded. "Una - roughly how long were we all out of it?"

"Bout ten minutes give or take. Rosie here took longer." He felt it when the taint hit Jowan's bloodstream - he could feel that warm presence in the other mage.

* * *

Llars was pleased that they had more Grey Wardens. Rose saw to initiating the blood mage further - which entailed making sure the taste was out his mouth and informing him of the hunger and dreams of the Banalhan.

He saw to it that the food was cooking and got their non-Warden companions out of the tent. "I will not be subjected so. My clothes are fit for purpose." The daughter of Asha'bellanar scowled as she exited the tent.

"But imagine some velvet, heavy and low cut. To show off your best features no? It could be in that purple you so love." The delusional shemlen called out after her, a sad snort of air out of her nose as she walked out after.

"They will cause headaches if left alone again." The qunari said as he walked out.

"I found Sister Leliana quite affable. If misguided in her preachings of Andraste." The elderly shemlen mage sighed.

"How so? I would have thought any that believed their God spoke to them as delusional." Llars answered her.

"She believes all are the Maker's children. It is... not the teachings that are usually spoken. How should the Maker's word be spread if spoken incorrectly?" Llars furrowed his brow. This shemlen should know surely...

"I am not a follower of your Maker. I believe in the Creators, Mythal, Elgar'nan, June, Falon'din, Dirthamen, Andruil, Sylaise, Ghilan'nain and Fen'harel. My vallaslin is of Elgar'nan, the first Creator, the father. He threw his own father - the sun- from the skies. Mythal, the mother asked him to restore the sun to the rightful place and see that it sets and rises each day. Elgar'nan is the vallaslin that represents vengeance and of the father. I was supposed to have been born with the gift of magic and so would have become Keeper of my clan in time. I was not but I chose this vallaslin in honour of my father, the previous Keeper of my clan. That is how the elvhen show their faith and pass their beliefs on."

The shemlen looked shocked that he had such beliefs. "So this God is similar to the Maker. This mother God being Andraste?"

"I do not know of shemlen belief systems so could not draw any comparison. I would hope not, it would be yet another piece of elvhen history twisted by the shemlen. But I did not come here for religious debate. Jowan is now a Grey Warden and I must tend to the cooking pot."

It annoyed him more than it should have. The shemlen had their beliefs, and he his. But to try to twist them together seemed wrong. Very wrong. "That you defend your faith is honourable." He sighed as the qunari spoke. "Even when viddathari seek purpose in the Qun the Arishok does not declare their faith as needless if it does not interfere with the philosophy of the Qun."

"So if I decided to follow as you do - this lifestyle of Qun." Llars pondered aloud. "And my personal beliefs did not get in the way of it. I would be _allowed_ to still believe in the Creators?"

"Yes." Llars frowned at his word. A man of few words described the qunari quite well.

"If one believes something with all of their heart. There is nothing that tears them from it. No zealous priestess or preacher would sway them. One must bend like the limb of a tree but never break. It is the way of Andruil."

"In the Qun there is no such bending."

"I am not here to speak religion and philosophy." He grumbled. The qunari wandered off, shaking his head. Why must people speak to him as if his beliefs were not worth it?

"Ma lath!" He called out as he put the chopped onions into the stewpot. Zevran was sauntering into the encampment, four fat wood pigeons, field dressed and gutted. He hadn't been in the tent because of hunting. "They are fine catches."

"Only the finest." Zevran smiled, placing them down on the rolled out mat for chopping.

* * *

Jowan coming to was a brilliant moment. Rose could clearly remember Kalder's words about clinging onto life before slipping away slowly. It was a horrid feeling to have the mage in her arms, laboured breathing.

"I could have said the words." She looked up at Alistair from her kneel at her tent, staking it into the ground.

"And why didn't you?" She drawled, returning to her task.

"It doesn't matter now I suppose." He huffed.

"Good." She dusted her hands off from the mud and stood with a faint click of her knees. If she was correct she was slightly taller than him. Rose furrowed her brow. "Would you teach someone to wield a sword?"

"Huh?" He arched an eyebrow quizzically. Rose could almost hear her mother chiding about the wind changing and his face getting stuck that way. "Why would I teach you anything?"

"Suppose something gets into my face. Like a darkspawn. Arrows are pretty useless close range. I would like to wield a sword so I can defend myself."

"Hate to put it to you but you're not really much of a warrior. Swords are heavier than they look." Rose rolled her eyes.

"I meant a longsword, not a greatsword. I can barely lift those. Bodahn should have one I could borrow. If I could spar against you to learn it would be quickest. I also want to put you into the dirt." She smirked to herself as she walked over to the merchant.

He'd found a ship that would take them all across as close to Orzammar as possible tomorrow. A three day voyage but quicker than walking up close to Highever. It should keep them out of Highever territory and the civil war too.

Una had grumbled but acquiesced to her reasoning. The dwarf didn't like trees, high places or the look of going on a boat. Even Bodahn didn't and Rose reckoned he had been on the surface longer.

* * *

Food in her belly and a sword on provision from Bodahn (she could buy it after that scavenger had paid herself and Sten off for not killing him and the information that the man who scavenged the place before was in Orzammar now), she was going to try to fight against Alistair.

Maker's teeth it was sounding like a stupid idea. He was a warrior trained in the sword and shield, she was an archer. They both circled each other, just leather jerkins on for protection and he without his shield. There was an almost happy expression on his face and she tightened her grip on the sword.

He was not going to win. He lashed out and Rose side stepped the blow. Slow, she could move quicker than him. But there was power behind that. She moved to lunge with the sword in a two handed grip but he also dodged easily enough.

"Nice try." He smiled, twisting to try and disarm her with the flat of his blade rapped on her knuckles. Rose moved out of his range in their makeshift sparring ring and kept her sword in block, diagonally outstretched.

This is what she did. She watched for weaknesses. He favours his right leg and so could be toppled onto his left given a strong enough jab with the pommel in his ribs. She moved in a flurry, putting herself inside his range and placed her right foot just hovering from the floor to lift upwards.

She switched the sword into her left hand and slammed the hilt home in his ribs, lifting her foot slightly and... he fell onto his left side. Victory! "Ow. My one manly feeling got bruised."

"Get up. I've just skewered the next King to the floor with this sword."

Of course, as time drew on it happened to have been a fluke. Twice she was 'decapitated', once 'run through' and in another bout she 'had an arm amputated'. It was a good thing Xavier and Wynne were to hand for the unlucky cuts gained.

She was lucky again and managed to pull the same trick on him with a kick to his left knee. But the next two times she ended up on her back or front with a sword aimed at her throat.

"Again!" She pushed up from the ground, wiping dusty mud off. The night was drawing in and her skin sweaty but she was going to beat him again. The sword felt right in her hand.

They started circling again and she could see he was hardly breathing heavily. They met with a clash of metal as they both struck out at the same time. Rose was learning his moves.

Five more clashes and she gave him a good kick to the thigh, he a good whack to her shoulder with the flat of his blade. She pulled another dirty trick and moved with whatever speed she had and twisted behind him, hooking him under the arm with her left wrist and twisting him about to fall onto the floor. "You don't fight fair." He huffed on the floor, winded from the move.

"I don't expect darkspawn do either," she reached tentatively to her hip and rubbed. Maker it hurt. "and I've pulled a muscle in my hip."

"One more healing coming up my dear." Xavier sighed and that cooling tingle swam into her abused muscle. "I think that should be enough for today. Rest. Healers orders."

"Oh! But that were fun to watch!" Una groused. "I were gonna get Bodahn to bring out the nug and start a little spit roast for it. Ancestors arse!"

"Next time. We have to be up bright and early tomorrow for the boat. Just imagine that swaying and the fact there's not stone above or below you durgen'len." Llars smirked. "I will spar against you tomorrow. Zevran has also promised to spar against you as well."

"Joy." Rose ground out, still slightly stiff as she walked over to Bodahn, handing over the silver for the sword. She'd keep this for now.


End file.
